The Haughty Princess
by Bingo7
Summary: Ruth is a pretty proud princess. She is very unmarriagable and her father is at a loss. But she is capable of being forced to the altar. But to a beggar? Just when she thinks she's slipped out of it, kidnapping and drudgery occur. I thank the Grimm brothers!
1. The Haughty Princess

**I'm crazy I know. Another story. I better finish another story but I just can't let this sit around. I've done something new this time and took one of my favorite Grimm story and changed it a bit. I usually make up my own. But let's see how this goes. Critic as much as you like! Please I need it.**

**Chapter 1: The Haughty Princess**

Mornings are the worst for me, Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadoro. My nurse, a grumpy old woman named Sue, awoke me by opening up the curtains to let the sun flash onto my face suddenly. Then she growled, "The sun's up, girl. You should be too." I always pulled the covers over my head, knowing that my nurse would just yank them back again.

"I'm awake!" I yelled when Sue drew away my protection.

"But you aren't up!" Sue shot back.

So I had to roll out of my silken bed and be dragged away to the mirror to be pampered over. Usually I'm too tired to resist as Sue tugged at my long curly brown hair until it was proper looking and plastered my face with all the cosmetics I needs to live up to my title as one the fairest maiden in all the land. I certainly am fair of face, with rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and an upturned freckled nose.

Along with my title as being one the fairest maidens in the land (Princess Katelyn still rivaled me) I had a better known title of being the haughtiest and the proudest. I don't know which I liked better. This is why at the age of eighteen I was still not married and not betrothed. No man would have me, and I would have no man.

When I was clad in the royal attire of satin and silk I would be sent to my etiquette class, alone. You see my two younger sisters, Esther and Loretta, were already happily married to lesser princes. So it was left to Madam Catalin (a very new teacher) to teach the princess what she already knew.

"When being introduced to a young man from a foreign country, how do you address him?"

"With an insult and a toss of my head of course," I scoffed, while lounged carelessly on the couch eating chocolates. My favorite is the one with the syrupy cherry in them.

Madam Catalin's face flamed. "How _should_ you address him, princess?"

"Oh, that. Well, the books say I ought to tell him I'm pleased to meet him and ask how the weather is in his country, but that is not how I do it and I consider a most false and unrealistic address. Young men from foreign countries have _no_ right, no privilege to even approach me. After all, they are aliens."

"They aren't aliens!" gasped the shocked madam.

So naive.

"An alien, Madam, according to the dictionary, is something foreign and strange. You stated yourself the young man is from a foreign country. To add to that I say they are strange and also extremely inadequate and quite unnecessary. Really, teach me something I _don't_ know."

She couldn't so I was left to walk through my gardens unmolested, but to molest.

"Now, see here, you ugly thing, what are you cutting up that rose bush for?"

"It needs trimming your highness," stammered the pale gardener.

"Trimming shimming," I mocked. "_I_ didn't tell you to trim it and it is _my _garden. Leave off, thou foul smelling fool. Don't come in here again and taint my beautiful garden. Only beautiful things may enter and you are far from it."

He really was ugly with a huge flat nose and a bald head.

The gardener wasn't the only person I fired from the castle. However I suspect my father the old king made sure all the molested servants were paid and given some other job where I could not see them.

One day as I was swinging lazily in a hammock in my lovely garden I was startled by the sudden appearance of a young man standing in the middle of my walk. He was not one of the servants for he was dressed grandly and had a royal ring on his finger.

"Who are you and how dare you come into my personal gardens?" I cried, sitting up abruptly. "It isn't proper at all for you to come upon a sleeping lady unawares. Away with you insolent knave!"

"Forgive me, milady," said the man tipping his hat. "I dare anything. But I could scarcely say you were sleep, for you were humming to yourself, and one hardly hums in their sleep. I am Prince Nathaniel of Durant, and you are?"

"Very annoyed!" I snapped, grabbing up my book. "I said away with you, knave, go or I shall call my guards and hit you with this book!"

"Don't damage the book, dear lady. T'would be a waste to use it on me when I mean you no harm. If you would just calm yourself and give me a name I will go."

"You want my name?" I scoffed. "I'm shocked that you don't know already. _Everyone_ knows who I am. Therefore you are most unworthy to talk to me. Get away from here now, or I shall surely call my guards and command them to take you to the prison."

The prince looked surprised, and then he shrugged, and said, "I was simply walking around. But I have learned something. You really are as haughty as they say, Princess Ruthia. Good day."

"It was a good day until you spoiled it," I yelled at him as he strolled out of the gardens. But there was something about the way he had said the third sentence that made me wonder for a second. He had said in...not disgust as most did, but in determination or conviction. So strange.

Grumbling to myself about inadequate aliens I slipped back into my hammock, ready to sleep when I was suddenly pushed by Sue. Sue was the only one who was not afraid of me among the servants, and the only one who could stand my conduct with retorts and insults of her own. She had lived in the palace since the day of her birth, and had unquestioned and undesignated power to boss around the royalty. She is very annoying.

"Up, you lazy girl," she barked. "You've got to get dressed."

"I am dressed, hag, go away. I've a dream to finish."

"You've a social gathering to attend to, princess, and if you don't come at once your father will ground you from the gardens."

I opened my eyes to glare in surprise. Father had not wanted me to go to a ball ever since I declared to the whole assembly that no man was good enough for me. It had been after Lord Ralph had proposed to me in a most romantic way. But he had to big of a lips and I didn't like him. "Why is this ball so important that father would risk him losing his patience again? He knows I can't stand them and neither can he; when I'm there that is."

"No questions, just come and put on the azure."

"The azure from Froc?" I gasped, suddenly very interested. I had received the dazzling gown two months ago for my eighteenth birthday but had not been allowed to wear it, much to my disappointment.

"It's the only one you've got isn't it?"

I immediately jumped up, excited to dress up in such a fine dress. I had thought I'd never be able to wear it, since it was a ball gown and father was very strict. "Oh, I'll go and I shall the most beautiful one there! No one will be able to compete with Princess Ruthia when she is the azure. Nay, not even Princess Katelyn!"

* * *

Indeed even Princess Katelyn's eyes widened with envy when I swept into the room in my sparkling silver and azure gown, which shimmered down my slim body and matched my piercing sapphire eyes. My gorgeous dark brown hair fell down my back in a series of tiny curls with a net of jewels on my head. I smirked as all eyes turned to me and some gasped. I loved being beautiful. 

"I'm so glad you came," smiled the king. He seemed very glad to see me, probably because I was in an exceptionally good mood and so was he. He took my hand gently and whispered, "You look beautiful darling. I have a surprise for you."

My eyebrow raised in disbelief. My father was hardly a man of surprises. "Oh really, and what is it, dear father?"

But he simply clapped his hands over the large assembly of young men and women. Immediately all the young unmarried men dashed to the side of the room and in seconds formed themselves into a long line. They were all marshaled in a row according to their rank and standing. First came the kings, then the grand-dukes, then the princes, the earls, the barons, and the gentry. I gaped in horror, realizing the trap I had just walked into.

"My dear daughter," said father out loud. "I have decided to give you the freedom of choosing your husband for yourself. Look well, and choose well. If you don't like him, be sure to have a good reason."

The Haughty Princess Ruthia was not about to be beat so easily.

"Have a reason for not liking them you say," I murmured, and a brilliant plan flashed through my head. I clamped my mouth into a sly sweet smile and glided towards the waiting suitors, who were all trying to look their best. I approached the first man, a king from the richest country known. He was looking at me expectantly and in awe.

"You," I said gently. "Are...too fat. A wine barrel. Sorry."

His double chin dropped.

Everyone looked at each other, in shock.

Let them talk about this for gossip.

I didn't give a second glance at him but moved onto the next one, the king known for his army. I hardly looked at him before declaring, "Good heavens must _I_ jerk my head up to see your face? You are much too tall. Long and thin have little in their heads."

His tiny neighbor looked nervously at me and wasn't surprised when I stated, "You are too short." But he frowned when I added, "Short and thick is never quick."

And so I went down the line, insulting each one. Too pale, pale as death. Too red, a mere fighting cock. Not straight enough, a green log behind a stove. Uglier than mud. Slumped with too large of a rump. I was actually enjoying herself, for father had told me to give a reason, so I was _legally_ insulting them. Oh the joy!

"Look," I cried and laughed when I spotted a king whose chin had grown a little crooked. "He has a chin like a thrush's beak! From now on, good sir I'll think of you as King Thrushbeard!"

I laughed and continued down the line. But I stopped suddenly when I came upon the prince I had encountered in the garden. I sneered in disgust and pleasure, knowing I had to think up of something very crude for him. But I hesitated as I took in his sturdy straight figure, tanned handsome expression, and confident air as he stared right back brashly. I frowned, realizing with reluctance that he was a bit harder than the others.

"Thou," I said frostily and formally, "Thy eyes are much too cold and full of rudeness and arrogance..."

"As are thine, milady," replied Prince Nathaniel quickly. But he said so softly only his neighbors and I caught it and they smirked.

I flushed angrily. I said loudly, "You are the worst of the whole lot, for all their faults combine to make you, a most unruly, boorish lad. I would rather marry a fool than marry you. But then again, you _are_ a fool."

I was about to move on, and begin with the earls but father suddenly stopped me and said through his clenched teeth, "Methinks you've had enough fun for one day, my daughter."

I smiled charmingly at all the suitors I disposed of in one day. "Indeed I have," I smirked. "Thank-you father for a most delightful surprise." I tossed my beautiful curls and glided gracefully out of the room.


	2. Beggars and Fools

**I don't own King Thrushbeard.**

**Chapter 2: Beggars and Fools**

"This has gone too far!"

I fidgeted in my lady like posture wishing my father's tirade would end soon so I could look over the newest dresses from Froc. Froc always made lovely gowns, and although I would probably never wear them in public, it was nice to look at myself in my full sized mirror.

"Is that understood, Ruth?"

I looked at my father innocently and asked, "Understood? What? Mathematics? To some."

His red face turned crimson. "Ruth..."

"Oh, you mean me. Of course I understand mathematics. Tis mostly common sense you know. Like one plus one equals two..."

"I swear by the gods," shouted father, "You Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadoro shall marry the very first beggar that comes through my doors!"

I laughed. "Oh, father you were always so old fashioned, what with your fancy dramatic oaths. Please, this is the fourteenth century! But I still love you." I stood up and smiled sweetly at him. Then I tiptoed up and kissed him on the cheek. There, now he would be calm and happy with me again.

However as I began to sweep out of the room I heard him say, "I swear child, I swear on your mother's grave!"

But still I only felt a slight shudder. He truly wasn't serious.

* * *

Father and I were sitting comfortably at the dinner table enjoying the last course of delicacies and pastries. I had a small tart, to keep my figure, and was about to ask if I may be excused when the announcer entered and said nervously and very confusedly, "There are several...beggars outside wishing to be let in and see you, your highness. They are all claiming...the princess's hand in marriage." 

I immediately jumped to my feet in indignation.

"How dare you? How dare you do this? I will not marry anyone of those beggars, even if he were a duke in disguise! I thought you loved me father! Recall your silly oath and send them away! Now!"

"I didn't do anything," said father, his voice matching my own. "I don't know how my oath went around, but I will not recall it. I will still marry you to the first beggar that comes through those doors."

I felt my face flush with fury. "You're crazy! I will not stand this insult. It is a foul offense on my rank, my title, my very being. I the Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadora will _not_, I repeat, will _not_ marry any one of those filthy vagabonds. This I swear!"

"I thought you said that was an old fashion thing to do," retorted father.

"Well, I've just made it a stylish trend. Soon there will be oaths right and left," I said quickly, then I resorted to a more pleading tactic which always worked with my soft hearted father. "Please father, how will you know which to choose for me out of so many? I don't want to marry...not now. I want to stay here with you and it is such on short notice. I don't think I could bare it."

I allowed a few tears to seep out and I fumbled out my hanky.

Father sighed. "I will send them away," he said softly and rose to go in person.

I smiled triumphantly and hurried away to my room. I went out to the balcony and looked down at the entrance. A gasp escaped me. The servant had misjudged the size when he said 'several'. The crowd of gray and brown beggars was huge! There must have been at least a hundred, but that was only the ones I could see. I could tell even from here several were lords dressed up, because they were clean, and their clothes were torn on purpose.

One of them caught sight of me and yelled, "Princess I was the first one here, marry me!"

Immediately a hundred eyes were on me and a clamor arose. They begged me in their lowly way to accept them. I sneered in disgust and horror. They were revolting! I knew I wouldn't have to marry them, but just the thought...!

"Sue!" I yelled, as the tramps flocked under my balcony. "Go get the big metal pail from the kitchen that the cooks dump in all the waste, hurry!"

I stared down at them with a cold expression and watched as more joined the horrendous mob. Sue was back soon and as she handed me the bucket she smirked, "You ought to be flattered, Ruthia. So many want to marry you."

I nearly threw up at the thought and the contents of the pail. I quickly emptied it over the pathetic crowd of beggars. Pleas turned into shrieks and praise to swearing. I gave them all a haughty glance and murmured something to Sue then walked back into my room to wash my hands and engross myself in a more beautiful scene; myself. Sue's eyes glittered approvingly, and then she approached the unhappy crowd.

"The princess says she is not worthy to talk to you, so I give you her message. That is the most you will ever have of Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadora."

I think for once Sue did this quite willingly.

The swarms of beggars left, for the most part, and I was still unmarried and happy. Some stuck around, trying to get in, but the guards got tired of them and made sport of them until they left. Father was lenient to me and Madam Catalin was sent away very doubtful of her own lessons. I now had full free days to lounge about in my garden and torment my servants. It was menial of me I know to have to bend so low as to torment my servants, but there was no one else. The balls ceased and I had no friends. I was not totally friendless since I visited my sister once in a while and pampered my niece, Joan, daughter of Loretta.

Father pampered me in turn and was always giving me little gifts. My favorite was a little calico kitten that loved to purr unceasingly as it rubbed over everything. I named her Pixie and she became my constant companion. In return I didn't 'fire' any servants for a whole week. But I soon realized that he had simply been waiting for the right moment to ask what he wanted.

"Ruth, dear," he said, and I couldn't tell his sweet voice was fake. "You know that when I die you, as my oldest child will be queen."

"Nonsense, father in order to do that I'd have to marry and you know no man is good enough for me." I laughed as Pixie leapt trying to catch a pearl necklace I was dangling above her.

"I could change the laws," replied my father quietly.

My head shot up in dismay. "Oh! You wouldn't!"

"Now, there is no fighting dear, but that is far off in the future. We'll discuss that later. But, since you are going to be the queen no matter what you must attend court with me."

Court. I had never gone to court and I dreaded it. I didn't want to sit stiffly in a chair while my father and some ugly advisors droned on about politics. I didn't understand economy, or alliances, or anything about making the people happy. Naturally I would never be a good queen. I wished father could live forever.

"Really, Ruth it isn't as bad as you think it is," said father reading my doubtful expression. "There are jesters, and ladies and lords. We have a grand time, really. And only when a really important thing is called up do I talk with my advisors. Some of the peasants come in with very interesting problems. You could help solve them."

"Father I'm perfectly fine staying here as the hidden beauty of the world. I don't want to flaunt my beauty to mere peasants. Then people would brag they've seen me and I wouldn't be a rare flower anymore People still don't even know if I'm a blonde or a red head. No I can't do that. I'd rather stay in my gardens."

"My dear," said my father dryly. "The servants you've released don't brag to the world of seeing you. Besides, if more people saw you your name would widen throughout the world and more people would know of your beauty."

I chewed on my lip. "You're right!" I finally said. "I will come to court. Then I will nice like you've always wanted me to be and let the peasants catch a glimpse of _real_ beauty. You are very welcome, Papa. Good night."

Father just shook his head.

He was probably so proud of me.

* * *

"Again! Again! Do that amazing stunt again juggler!" Father leaned out of his throne as if he wanted to catch the trick the juggler used to juggle all seven balls. I had told him before there was no trick but it was all skill, but he just laughed at me. 

The juggler bowed and started to juggle again. I yawned loudly and said what I said to every juggler my father had, "I hope you don't fall over with dizziness, juggler."

"Oh, no ma'am I'm quite capable of maintaining my poise."

"You mean if you had any? Indeed. Well, I only hope _I_ don't fall over with boredom."

This startled the performer and he missed a ball which resulted in seven balls bouncing to the floor. He stared at me, still trying to figure out what I had just meant.

"Ruth I almost had it!" growled my father. He hadn't heard what I said.

"Sorry father. Maybe now you could send in for a fool. They are a tad bit more entertaining that these constant never changing jugglers."

At this the juggler spoke up, forgetting my insults. "I have a friend outside, majesties. He is a poor fellow trying to earn a few pennies and is very skilled in juggling, lyre playing, ballad telling, singing, tight rope..."

"Yes, yes we get the point he is capable, bring in the fool," I said rolling my eyes. The juggler nodded quickly and ran out of the palace.

"My princess enjoys fools?"

I didn't even turn as I watched Lord Garret come up to my side. Ever since I had come to court this young Lord had been trying to win my affections. He was charming and handsome enough, but was so consistent in his advances to me I disliked him very much. He often talked to me and my father, but I had no fear of him because I knew father disliked him too.

"You should know. I didn't even know you had a princess," I said lightly. "I pity her."

Lord Garret laughed. "You are a clever maid, milady, all the more reason I should adore you."

"I have yet to meet a clever man which is why I adore none."

The Juggler was soon back with a man dressed in rags and who limped. I frowned. There were no caps no bells no ridiculous multi colored outfits. Of course any tramp is a dumb fool, but was he truly 'skilled'?

"Is this some sort of trick?" I snapped, glaring at the dusty haired dirty man.

"You ma'am? A trick?" asked the man in a bright young voice that did not match his looks. "Some say you are. Do you Lawrence?"

I gaped at the fool. This was the first time anyone had every insulted me besides Sue. All of the other fools had been careful not to or couldn't retort back with clever replies. This was a brash one. I didn't know whether to feel insulted or curious. Instead I felt challenged.

The Juggler, Lawrence, shrugged and looked nervously in my direction.

"Are you the skilled fool he told us about?" Lord Garret asked pointedly.

"Well, I thought I was but it seems you have taken my spot," he sighed.

My father chuckled.

That shut up the annoying brat and he didn't speak again.

Well at least the fool had a quick mind.

"He is skilled," assured Lawrence hastily, glancing at the fool as if he wanted to tell him to come to his senses and quit insulting royalty.

"Aye, I am called that," smiled the fool scratching at his flea infested head. "The other night I had the audience glued to their seats."

"How clever of you to think of it," I said dryly.

Lawrence scrunched up his eyebrows and Lord Garret frowned at me, but the fool nodded quickly and said sadly, "Yes I thought so too. But it didn't work. They still managed to give me those horrid vegetables. I wish they'd given me fruit instead. So, please if you are going to throw something at me, give me an apple not a tomato."

"Can you sing for us, fool?" asked the king.

"I can," nodded the fool. "But the question is, _will_ I sing for you. I haven't decided yet."

I thought father would frown in annoyance and send him away for such insolence. But instead he laughed loudly and his eyes sparkled as he said, "I like you fool! You sound as if you were from Durant with a fine accent. Sing us one of your folk songs!"

The fool bowed and picked up a well worn lyre while Lawrence put a flute to his lips.

**"As I was walking along a lane,  
I heard twa corbies making a mane;  
The tane unto the t'other say,  
'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'**

**'In behind yon old fail dyke,  
I wot there lies a new slain knight;  
And nobody knows that he lies there,  
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.**

**'His hound is to the hunting game,  
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,  
His lady's ta'en another mate,  
So we may make our dinner sweet.**

**'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,  
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;  
Wile I lock o his gowden hair  
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.**

**'Money a one for him makes mane,  
But nane shall know where he is gone;  
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,  
The wind shall blow for evermair.**'"

"What a horrid song!" I cried, disgusted that I could hardly understand half of it with his thick accent. He didn't sound like a frog, and I had to give him that much credit, but I still wasn't pleased. "Don't sing again of eating people."

"I didn't eat them madam, the crows did! That is their nature you know."

"Tis a foul nature."

"Is not yours as well?" he smiled.

"Why I...!"

"Don't say another word," said the fool raising his hand. "Your face says it all. You know I am right. I thank you for your listening ears. Now Lawrence tell me isn't the princess so impressed that she can not say word in return? I am flattered."

"Indeed, fellow fool," said Lawrence who was beginning to gain confidence...or impertinence. "She is most impressed. I never thought I'd see the haughty princess speechless."

"You can't see speech," I snapped at him. "But we can certainly see your large red nose. I _should_ have you put in the dungeon for such ugliness."

"I may be ugly ma'am but at least I have a good heart."

"If you were my husband, Juggler, I should flavor your wine with poison."

"If I were your husband, madam, I should drink it."

I didn't even blush, though I had not been expecting such a quick reply. "Then you want to die?"

Lawrence opened his mouth to respond but his buddy spoke first, "Only for you madam. For thy face is a killer. I'm surprised I haven't died now. Please don't frown again, for it perhaps will kill some unsuspecting weak man. In fact, why don't you just keep your fiery tongue inside your mouth, eh?"

I was so mad at this I could hardly think. I wished I had gone on my first impulse and sent them both to the dungeon. This was not in the least entertaining.

The fool, after smiling softly at my silence, turned to my father and bowed, "Sire, my time is up and I must go. Might you have an apple to give me?"

"Your song has pleased me, fool," he said. He looked as if he had been considering something for a long time and had come to a conclusion. "And I realize you are a beggar, so now I may fulfill my oath. Two weeks ago I swore that my daughter would marry the first beggar that came through my door. You are the first. I will give you _her_ as a wife."

Lawrence clapped his hands over his ears as my shocked scream bounced off the court walls.


	3. Quests that Backfire

**Chapter 3: Quests that Backfire**

A silence filled the court room when I finally stopped to draw in a breath. Father didn't even glance at me, though I was expecting a sharp reprimand. Lords and Ladies who had been listening intently and amusedly to the battle of words were too shocked to think and too embarrassed, or smug to look at me. I don't think they knew I was able to make so much noise at once. Neither did I, but I was willing to make a lot more if needed.

The fool looked at Lawrence and Lawrence looked at the fool. They too looked surprised, and a little hesitate. Oh, please let them think me too hard to deal with. I had realized my father was in absolute seriousness or he would have burst out laughing now.

But there was no laughter as he said firmly, "You may not say no, fool. I command you marry her."

"But he isn't even a beggar!" I shouted. "He's a _fool_ and he will be a greater fool if he marries me, for I will poison _his_ wine. Father, are you crazy? You are crazy! I'm your daughter and you are king, how can you do something like this? I'll forgive you if you stop now. Please! Father!"

But father didn't even look at me as he said clearly to the stunned servant at his side, "Call the priest."

Now another dread filled me and I immediately began to protest. "What?! Now?! I can't believe this! I have hardly time to give you my reasons for not wanting to marry the freak, and now you give me a marriage on the spur of the moment?! I'm a _princess_! Where's the feast? The expensive dress? The huge crowd and long line of mourning old suitors? This is not right! This is not fair!"

At last the fool spoke up lightly, "But my lady when is life fair? Even a princess has problems you know."

I glared at him hatefully.

"There is a crowd here," said father quietly. "The dress you are wearing is quite expensive, Lord Garret looks unhappy enough, and I am willing to let you eat one last feast before you go, as a wedding gift."

"Go?" I squeaked in horror.

"I am here your majesty."

A pious looking priest stood before my father, looking startled, but ready. My father took my head and gestured the fool up. He came, slowly, and stood on the opposite side of me, but I didn't look at him. I couldn't. Things were happening too fast. I was getting married against my will, and quite forcefully since father had a tight grip on my arm. But my thoughts were whirling so fast I don't think I could have gotten away if I wanted to.

My life flashed before me. I had started learning the alphabet, mother died, the catcalls, I attended my first ball where I said no man was good enough for me, I was declared one out of the two most beautiful women in the world...this was like dying!

And now I was getting married and I was only wearing a light gown which wasn't even white!

"Princess Ruthia? Will you answer the question or no?"

I gaped at the priest stupidly.

"Since her majesty is speechless _again_," said Lawrence, "I will answer for her."

He cleared his throat but before he could state the dreaded words, which were to seal my fate and before I was truly dead and in the grave, I jerked away and yelled, "Wait!"

Everyone stilled.

"I _must_ have some say in this. I realize it is useless to refuse, so I propose something different. I do not know this man in the least, and he could very well be a robber and an insolent knave. Truth I think he is, so I demand that he prove himself...as a true and brave man. I demand that he go on a quest."

Everyone looked at each other, dumbfounded.

"What sort of quest, milady?" asked the fool quietly.

I thought quickly for the first things that came to my mind. "There is a castle in Durant called the Castle Perilous. This I command you to take. If you do this, I will marry you."

"Now see here," growled my father ready to object.

But the fool interrupted him, "I accept my lady's challenge. How much time will you give me?"

"Two months," I said not hiding the smugness in my face and voice. He truly was a fool. Castle Perilous was obviously a suicidal place, where everyone entered, but none returned.

"Does that count for me too?" asked Lord Garret, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

The fool and Lawrence looked at him in disgust and even rolled their eyes when I said, "Yes. It does. It counts for every man who wishes for my hand. Pass this message on to your fellow _beggars_." Why not get rid of them all at once? It was a marvelous plan and I could hardly believe they were playing right into my plans. But I was worth dying for, obviously.

"Are these the only rules of the quest?" asked the fool patiently. "Since there will be many young men attacking the castle at the same time, how will you know who truly captures it?"

"The one who returns alone with... the claws of the dragon shall win my hand," I said coldly to him. I then gave them all a final triumphant glare and whisked out of the room. I felt so relieved I felt as if I had just whisked away from death itself, and sent others instead.

* * *

Father felt sorry for the fool and offered him a full suit of armor and all the proper weapons for a knight, but surprisingly he refused them. Though, it is not that big of a surprise since he was a fool. I watched from my balcony as many knights, who had heard the message, gathered to together and set off for Durant. For a brief second I felt sorry for the country, when it would see so many armed knights invade the country, but I quickly laughed at the thought.

The Castle Perilous was guarded by a fierce dragon. Inside the castle it was rumored to be full of treasure. Why else would a dragon guard it so ferociously? It was also rumored that a man owned the castle and lived there, living on the riches, and letting his dragon destroy all. Some said he was a sorcerer, others a bewitched prince. I didn't believe any of them. It had just seemed like a good place to clear myself of those silly men.

About a month after my nigh marriage with the fool I began to feel a little sick. I blamed the dinner, which had been full of seafood, and I particularly don't like sea food. But father had begged me to eat some, since he always wanted me to like it, since I was a picky eater. I had had some reluctantly, just to please him. I went to bed feeling ill.

It was such a hot night, that I couldn't sleep, but tossed and turned. So I slipped out from under the hot covers and stepped out onto the balcony. It was cooler out here, and much more peaceful. Besides that I wasn't tired in the least and enjoyed watching the stars so much more. I loved the way they shimmered, and twinkled. They were so beautiful.

I took out an old book on constellations and sat on a stool with the candle on the railing. The book was full of them and I was so caught up in finding the pictures in the sky that the time flew past me. I soon grew tired of that though, and put the book away and looked over the city. The lights were bright, and I think it caused the stars to be a bit dimmer.

My thoughts suddenly and unwilling went to the knights who were at Castle Perilous I wondered if they had reached the gate without getting burned to a toast, and I laughed at the picture I had created in my mind. I had to commend myself for getting rid of so many fools at the same time. I was feeling better now, so I slipped on a robe since the air was chillier and I planned to stay out for a while.

I was about to look more constellations when I thought I heard a movement beneath me. Curious, I leaned over the edge. Something long and dark was moving up towards me, and it was moving fast. I gasped in alarm when right before me arose a ladder! It leaned against the railing and was wobbling as if someone or something was climbing it.

This could not be good. I grabbed the first rung and began to push it, but a hand suddenly appeared on my own. I shrieked and backed away. The creature, or man, pulled himself up, grunting and panting. Someone behind him growled and he toppled onto my balcony. He was dressed all in black and he had a mask, but it was askew. He stared at me, and I at him. I should have called the guards, screamed with all my might, but I didn't. I was too scared.

"'Ello," wheezed the man.

"Hans!" whispered the other man who was just climbing over the railing onto my balcony. "What are you waiting for?!"

Hans stared at him stupidly then looked back at me and asked very politely, "Are you the Princess Ruth?"

I was still frozen with fear and shock. I couldn't say anything.

"Hans!" growled the other man. "Of course she's the princess. Hurry up! Where's the gag?"

That jerked me to my senses.

"Gag!" I gasped. "What for?"

Hans licked his lips as he fumbled with his pockets. "Begging your pardon, miss," he said in his hoarse voice. "But we're kidnapping you. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind! Why you irresponsible, rude, blinding, dumb churl!" I cried my voice rising with each word. "How dare you ...?!"

But that was as far as I got before Hans' fellow thug grasped my mouth and inserted the gag. Instinct kicked in and I began to struggle. Hans jumped to grab my hands that were trying desperately to pull the gag away and to somehow injure the second man. But he was scratched by my flying nails. He howled but instantly stopped when the second man whacked him in the head.

"Quiet you! Just tie her up. Hurry, she's digging her nails into my arm! Witch."

I was gagged, bagged, and nearly hog tied, but they decided against that after a lengthy argument. Hans won when he said I would be all bent out of shape and therefore their master would not be pleased since he wanted me fresh and as clean as possible. I already felt filthy when the second coarser man tossed me onto his shoulder and started down the ladder. Even though I couldn't see it, I felt sick again. I was so afraid of heights, and it didn't help when the man wiggled the ladder and shook. It took us forever to get to the bottom, and I was ready to faint with fright.

They carried me through what seemed like a maze, but I only saw darkness. Every now and then Hans would trip up to my side and whisper, "Alright princess?"

I usually grumbled, trying to let him know he was a recreant knave, but whenever I made noise he would sigh loudly and say, "Good. I thought you was dead."

Once I didn't reply and he went into frenzy. He demanded his buddy put me down and let me get some air. The man hissed back, until Hans began raising his voice. Afraid of being caught, the man set me down and yanked off the bag. Hans couldn't see my glaring eyes in the dark and loosened the gag.

"A curse on you addlebrained curs!" I yelled as loudly as I could.

"She's alive," growled Hans' partner in crime as he promptly returned the gag to its place.

"Don't scare me again, please princess," begged Hans wiping his brow.

I was only able send him a venomous glare before the bag was placed over my head again. He was so stupid I was almost flattered.

After a while they put me on a horse and I felt my stomach lurch. I was not a rider. We rode for a long time and I grew sicker with every step. Once I cried, but only for a split second because I hurt and because I was so angry as to be fool enough to allow myself to be kidnapped in my room when there were guards right outside my door. Stupid guards.

"Do you have her?"

I was jolted back to the present and I was pulled from the horse. The bag was taken off and Hans said, "Here is the princess. She is alive."

"I can see that," snapped the man who stood right before me. His voice sounded so familiar, I had heard it somewhere, and it hadn't been a good memory. I searched his face in the darkness, but I didn't recognize him until he spoke again.

"It is so good to see you again, princess."

I threw up.

I was sicker than a dog from all the excitement, the riding, the heights, that awful dinner, and the disgusting realization of who had kidnapped me. I threw up all over the squawking Hans, his cursing comrade, and the shocked Lord Garret.


	4. Lord Garret's Pathetic Proposal

**Chapter 4: Lord Garret's Pathetic Proposal**

"Here, princess."

I looked at the hanky Hans was handing me and hesitated. Who knows where that had been, and considering I was about to put it on my mouth...I grabbed it and wiped my mouth, still coughing and gagging. Lord Garret had retreated to get cleaned up. Miraculously I had not been touched by my own display. I drank the water Hans handed me and tried to keep my whirling head under control. I was so dizzy I nearly fainted.

My reaction to seeing Lord Garret had actually amused several of his men. I think they shared my opinion of him being a stupid coward. How I hated that man!

"Your tent is here, princess," said Hans, indicating a simple looking tent in the dark. It was a servant's tent of all things! I was not going to sleep on the hard ground in a servant's tent! I looked around and spotted a large purple tent that surely had a cot of some sort in it. I pointed to it and asked, "Whose is that?"

"Lord Garret's, your highness."

I could've guessed that even in my dizzy state of mind. I glowered at him and said loudly, "Does the _Lord_ Garret expect the _princess_ he is _trying_ to impress to sleep on the floor of a measly tent while _he_ has a grand tent to himself?"

Hans thought about this then said slowly, "I suppose he does."

I would have screamed at him if I could. Instead I just sent him a vicious glare. Thankfully Lord Garret wasn't fool enough to ignore such an obvious hint. He came out, well dressed and completely forgetting the incident that had happened moments ago, said gallantly, "Of course not! My servant forgot that this tent is for you, and that tent is for him. Please, enter, darling Ruthia."

"Oh, please don't use such cheesy phrases I'll get sick again," I snapped at him. "Just keep your month shut, and I'll keep my guts to myself."

He shut up and I entered the tent and pulled the strings shut, wishing there was a lock. They had better not bother me. I was so tired I was ready to fall over. Lord Garret had more than just a cot, as I expected. It was a large fancy feather bed. I blew out the candle and crawled in, trying desperately to forget the terrible ordeal I had just gone through.

"Should we wake her?"

I opened my eyes. It was late in the morning and I was not in my room.

"The master said so, so I suppose we should."

Master? I suddenly remembered where I was and groaned. Kidnapped!

"But she...she's still asleep and I don't think we should go in."

That was Hans' voice.

"Heck, we've got to wake her up," growled his companion, the idiot who carried me from the palace to who knows where. I wasn't about to leave the comfortable bed and go out there in my nightgown but I couldn't have them coming in. I was so tired! Before I did anything Hans whispered a little loudly, "Princess! Princess...are you alive?"

I saw the string to the door being played with and I immediately felt wide awake and very angry. I grabbed the first thing that I could lay my hands on and threw it at the entrance and yelled, "Don't you dare come in, you filthy knave!"

There was a muffled yelp and some cursing. The thing fell to the ground, shattering. It was some sort of bottle with a clear liquid inside. It smelt strange. I hated it. I jumped out of bed and threw a rug over it, quenching the smell. There were a lot of rugs lying around the tent, and a couch with fluffy pillows and a table. It didn't look that bad, actually.

A chest was under the table and I pulled it out. It was full of clothes. At first I thought it was Lord Garret's clothes, but then I realized they were dresses. He must be really trying to impress me. Well, just as long as I wasn't too uncomfortable or indecent. I shuffled through the dresses and shook my head, disgusted. Good heavens even my nightgown was more modest than those things! Men obviously didn't know how to shop.

At the bottom I found a decent peasant style dress with a dark green color. I put it on and peeked out of the tent. It was surrounded by guards. I shuddered. There was no chance of escape. I thought about staying in there forever and throwing things at all who tried to enter, but then I smelled some bacon and eggs, and knew I couldn't resist.

I marched out into the warm morning air and glared at Hans who approached me tentatively. "Where's that dishonorable pig-headed master of yours?" I snapped.

"Over at the fire, your highness," said Hans quickly while his comrade glared at me and him, muttering something about him being honorable and rich.

I decided Hans was a decent pig. A pig, but still rather decent. He knew a fellow pig when he saw one and his master Garret was definitely one. I continued onto the fire and stood, warming my hands. A pan was frying some eggs mixed with bacon, but I didn't look at it. Instead I sent a glare to Lord Garret who was mashing food into his face and barked, "How dare you sit in my presence, cur!"

He jerked his head up and stared at me, before scrambling up to attention. "Princess Ruthia I didn't notice you."

"Either that or you were purposefully being rude," I retorted. I sat down on the log. It was so rough! "First you offer a paltry tent, then you send your filthy men to wake me up, and now you won't even feed me. Ugh! You are a horrible suitor and kidnapper!"

Lord Garret flushed bright red to my satisfaction and he ordered Hans to serve me. Hans did it eagerly, and I was tempted to smile at him, but instead I didn't even glance at him. He was stupid.

"You must forgive my rude kidnapping," said Lord Garret apologetically.

"I don't have to," I muttered. The bacon was good, I had to admit.

"I do beg your pardon, though," insisted Lord Garret. "But I was so desperate you see. I love you so much I have become nigh crazy for you and have therefore gone to the extreme to get you. You must...Please take this as a compliment, my dear lady."

"Why did you just take Castle Perilous? I will only marry the one who takes it." I pointed out.

"I did," he stated.

I gaped at him. "What?!"

He smiled; glad to have caught my immediate attention. "I fought the dragon, dear maid. He was sight to behold, with glittering scales and sharp ferocious teeth and bloodshot eyes. But I fought him and won! Yes, my love, I beat him, after all the other knights had failed miserably. With the dragon killed I took over the castle!"

"Then why didn't you take me there?" I cried. "Why didn't you tell my father? I don't believe you. What happened to all the other men?"

"I burned the castle down," he said. "So there is no Castle Perilous. And the other men, alas they perished under the claw of the dragon!"

At this I brightened and asked smugly, "Oh, did the dragon have claws? Where are they?"

Lord Garret reddened considerably. "Well, I _did_ take the claws of the dragon, but unfortunately... I lost them...in my excitement to see you again."

"All the other men perished, you say?" I asked, completely ignoring his love-sick mind. "The Fool did too?"

"Yes," said Lord Garret, flushing even more. He seemed angry, embarrassed at just the mention of the man. "He is dead, my love. He will not bother you again."

I smiled at myself. It had worked! I was free from all beggars. Of course I still had to get rid of this lying maggot. But my father was bound to come prancing into the camp with his large company of men and rescue me. Then he would be sorry he had ever wanted to marry me off to such a disgusting race. Men! Ugh.

"Now, my dear that we are reunited again, I must ask for your hand in marriage. For I love you more than tongue can tell. My love is like the red, red rose..."

"I've already heard that one from Prince James," I said, rolling my eyes. "And he was a _prince_, you measly lord. And he never even dreamed of kidnapping me. Once he took the hint he went away politely and pursued someone else. Why don't you follow his example?"

"I can't, my love. I can't leave your side for a moment!" cried Lord Garret clasping my hand to his heart. I felt sick again. I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled my hand away. I had never been courted by such a pathetic love sick soul.

I was tempted to slap him, but I didn't want to touch him at all. "Go away and leave me alone. I refuse your love. You are not good enough for me. You are a kidnapper, you are not rich, and you aren't as handsome as some others I've seen. Take me home at once."

At this Lord Garret's eyes grew hard. "No! You _must_ accept me! If you don't I shan't feed you. Take her to her tent at once and keep her there until I say."

I paled slightly in anger and fear. "How dare you!" I cried as the guards grabbed my arms. "Locking me up like some animal! I hate you! I'll never marry you, you pig, you foul, despicable, dishonorable, stupid...You didn't capture that castle! You probably never even approached it!"

Lord Garret grabbed my chin, causing me to shut up. "I would watch my tongue, if I were you, Princess. You _made_ me do this! No one stood a chance against that castle! It's impossible. So I figured that is a much simpler way to get you." He looked at me, and I wriggled, wanting desperately to get out of his intense gaze. "You will be my wife, my pretty flower. And that is that."

I wished I was a peasant and had the courage and insolence to spit on him. But I lost my chance as the gag was placed in my mouth and I was carried away. Not to the purple cushy pavilion, but to that disgusting tent. I did not like being kidnapped. I wished my father would hurry up and come rescue me. And when he did I would give him such a lecture, he would ban all the young men from the castle and I would never have to see one again. And that Garret would...have something very bad happen to him.

But these thoughts left as I wondered how long I could go without food.


	5. Frying Pans and Apologies

**Chapter 5: Frying Pans and Apologies**

Surprisingly Lord Garret was a very impatient man and after two hours he sent for me. He was still by the fire, eating. I suppose he wanted to make a show of eating in front of me, but I just sat casually on the log and carefully brushed all the dirt off me. I hated being dirty, and I was disappointed that this rascal had detained me from taking my morning bath.

"Are you starved yet?" he asked. "Will you accept me?"

I laughed mockingly. "Starved? I'm still stuffed from those bacon and eggs Hans cooked for me a little bit ago. I could go without food for days," I boasted. He looked absolutely furious about that. "And no I do not accept you. I wouldn't even accept you as kitchen scrubber. You'll probably make poor Hans do it for you."

Lord Garret shot Hans a hateful look which immediately took the grin off his face.

"You must accept me," persisted Lord Garret. "I am not the rogue you think I am. I really am quite a charming man."

"Ha, I find you as charming as a toad," I sniffed. "I will not accept you. I accept no man; especially men who will lower themselves enough to kidnap a lady and a princess no less! I've always despised you and you know it."

"Well said, princess!"

I leapt to my feet at the unfamiliar call and so did every other man in the camp. Lord Garret scanned the forest angrily. The voice had been very close and it had sent chills into every man there. But I felt thrilled. At last my father's knights had come to rescue me!

"Show yourself!" cried Lord Garret.

All most immediately a figure bounded out from the trees with a drawn sword.

Wait this couldn't be right. There was supposed to be a whole brigade of horsemen here at my liberation!

Lord Garret didn't even draw his own sword, the coward! He ran in the opposite direction yelling at his men to kill the intruder. The men leapt to do so, and I had to stumble out of the way. During the process, I saw the man's face and I did a double take as I tripped to the ground in surprise.

It was the fool!

"What are you doing here?!" I shrieked. He was the last man on earth I expected to find here. He was supposed to be dragon's droppings by now!

"Why, saving you of course, milady," he said mildly ducking as one of my guards swung his sword at his head. "As soon as I finish off these men I'll take you home and we'll get married."

"But you're supposed to be dead!" I cried scrambling to my feet. "I heard it myself!

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that was part of the plans, no. I'm not dead; you must have been listening to a liar. But this man will be, unless he backs off."

The guards, who had been scared and confused the whole time, took the hint and ran off without a second glance. Hans stopped and looked at me, then his comrades, wondering which way to go. The fool made a move as if to slice him and he jumped in horror before running after his fellow rogues. I was fuming. Sure I wanted to be rescued, but not by this fool! Would he ever leave me alone?! Besides that fight had been way too easy! There should have been at least some blood, or even a dead man. But none of the men had been wounded, hardly winded!

Furious because I had not escaped him I picked him the frying pan had been used to cook the eggs that morning. The fool never saw it coming as I whammed it down on his head. He faltered in surprise, and then crumpled to the ground.

I stood trembling with shock and rage. Had I really just hit a man over the head with a frying pan? This was too ludicrous to be true. I dropped the pan, shaking too much to even stand still. Now the guards would come back and I'd be a prisoner all over again.

"Princess! What have you done?!"

I turned, excepting to find Lord Garret coming out from hiding behind the trees at me with rope to bind me, but I was again shocked by the appearance of Lawrence the Juggler running towards me.

"You?!" I screeched. "What are _you_ doing here?! Don't tell me you want to marry me too!"

"I'm very much in love with my Gwen, thank-you very much," snapped Lawrence as he knelt by the fool. He lifted him up with great difficulty and carried him to the horse asking, "What did you do to him?"

"I...I hit him over the head with the frying pan," I replied, still trying to believe it myself.

Lawrence paused to gape at me.

"You? Why you're nothing but a spoiled lily livered wench!"

Before I could retort angrily the fool came to life, and he moved groggily.

"Lawrence what are you doing?"

Lawrence practically dropped the man as he turned his attention to the fool. "You were unconscious, Fred, you are still very weak. That...girl..."

Here the fool, Fred, (Fred. Ugh. What a dull simple name) unexpectedly chuckled as Lawrence helped him stand uncertainly on his feet. "You gave a hard hit, milady. I commend you. It seems you should carry a frying pan in your sheath from now on. But please, try not to use it on friends."

I couldn't help blushing and I tried to look for an insult to use, but I couldn't. Instead something shocking happened. The words just spilled out, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean..."

I stopped there realizing what I had done. I had just apologized! I hadn't done that since I was ten when father forced me to apologize to a girl I had slapped. After that I childishly swore never to apologize again. And now here I was saying sorry to the most obnoxious man on earth! Had I lost my mind?

Both Fred and Lawrence were staring at me as if they couldn't believe their ears. Truth I couldn't believe my tongue!

Thinking quickly almost desperately, I stammered, "I didn't mean that. I meant I was sorry to have shaken my wrist. Indeed, you have such a hard head, fool, that my wrist is now hurting." It was the truth, my wrist was hurting, but not from the strike. Lord Garret had twisted it, and I fear it might've been sprained.

Lawrence and the fool looked at one another; then the fool grinned lopsidedly and said, "I am sorry for your wrist, but I'm not sorry you've hit me."

I stared at him, not understanding but Lawrence smirked.

"Now if we could all get on our horses and ride away, I think we'll be quite fine. The kidnappers might be back."

"We can't go far," said Lawrence. "You have a headache, _thanks_ to the princess, and you had better rest. Do you have your horse, princess?"

"No."

"Fine, you'll ride with me," said Fred quickly, leaning on his horse for support. He caught my disgusted reluctant expression and even Lawrence's dismay. He scolded, "Now, we can't have her walking; besides I need someone to keep me steady, and I will most certainly not ride with Lawrence. He's bony. Up princess, then you've got to help me up."

"Must I?" I didn't try to hide my distaste for the idea.

"Well, it was you who made my head swim in the first place, milady. I can't get up there myself, without seeing triple. Hurry up."

I approached the horse, and pulled myself up. I considered kicking it in the sides and running off, leaving the two fools, but then I remembered the bandits and Lord Garret and decided against it. I couldn't risk going off without protection, and although these two were likely to get into scrapes themselves, I had to accept them as my only help.

Fred grabbed my hand, and I pulled him up behind me. I could feel his hand shaking, and wondered that he could keep himself from passing out again. I _had_ given him a hard hit after all. I winced and felt a tingling in my spine as his arms came around me and took the reins.

I closed my eyes. Like it or not this vagabond sitting behind me was my rescuer.

* * *

"Are you alright, milady?" asked Fred sitting across from me on a log. We had camped for the evening after two hours of riding and Fred's insistence that we continue. He was completely well after a drink of water from a spring. Right then Lawrence was cooking up some fish he had caught in the spring. 

Truth, I was trying to sort out all that had happened to me, from my betrothal to Fred to my sudden rescue. I was trying hard not to loose my temper. I was too tired to deal with that. But still I glowered at him and his constant smile.

"I was until you opened your mouth to speak."

"Nonsense, milady. I said nothing to insult you."

"But you have."

"That is all in the past. Right now we should start on a clean slate, since we will be traveling together for quite a while."

I nearly gagged, but quickly caught myself. Instead I decided to give him the lecture I gave all the men that made me never see them again. It had always worked and surely it would work on this sultry knave. But I had forgotten about his wit when I said scornfully, "You know, I've been asked to get married over a hundreds times."

"Your father doesn't count, milady."

"You are impudent, fool," I spat.

"I am not a fool, but an odd man."

"That was well spoken."

"This means I am a man of many talents and can earn my living by working for anyone in any sort of trade and be the best at it."

"Is it a trade to be so arrogant?"

I was rewarded to see him flush slightly, but he quickly shook it off and said, "It slips sometimes milady, forgive me. But I would be continually full of it if I were a princess of your standing."

"Then thank the heavens you are not," I scoffed.

"I already have," he said solemnly.

"Do you two think you could stop being cheeky for a moment to come over and eat some of this fish?" asked Lawrence impatiently. "It's nearly burnt and I've worked all afternoon catching them." He grabbed them from the spittle and tossed them on plates for us. As much as I would have liked to deny it, the fish was good, but that was probably I was so hungry. It didn't even have any salt! Plus I burnt my fingers picking at it. I flushed slightly, thinking this was so un-lady like. But I had been doing a lot of un-lady like things.

Fred began taking care of the horses. I was still mad at him for being alive, and I was determined to not talk to him, but curiosity got the best of me.

"What happened at Castle Perilous?"

"Oh, the things you'd expect: lots of fire, and roaring. I got very hot swinging blindly at the creature in the smoke. He finally got tired and gave up. Poor beast. But I felt even sorrier for all the knights who went first and perished. They wouldn't let me go you see. They all wanted to try first, so I let them. But on the second week they were all dead and so their squires and attendants just up and left. So I tried my hand at it, and won."

I gulped. Who would have thought a fool—

"What about Lord Garret. Did he fight?"

Fred shook his head, disgusted. "No, he sent all of his squires to go fight. Of all the men to capture you milady, you should be thankful that it was the most cowardly one."

I wasn't thankful. "Do you have the claws?"

He nodded and motioned to his pack that had been on the horse. "They are in there."

"But how did you do it?!" I cried, completely frustrated. I couldn't help flushing some, realizing what the claws meant. He made it sound as if he had just to attend a tea party, not to fight a dragon. What was I supposed to do now to finish him off?

"I clipped them off, of course, milady with my knife."

"No! I mean how could you have beaten the dragon when you are but a poor...odd man? Where did you get your sword, horse, and armor? You did have armor didn't you?"

Fred nodded again. "Of course. But I shredded that after the first blast of fire. Much too hot and stuffy. The squires had no use for their master's horses and weapons, so they let me pick some stuff out. That is why I'm not in my rags anymore. These are I admit more comfortable than what I had before and what else was there among the knights' chests. Lace and stuff. Very feminine. Very much not my type."

I noticed for the first time that he had gotten rid of his rags, and was wearing a simple white shirt and breeches. But they were still dirty, and he still had dusty grayish hair and an unruly beard. So he had really hardly changed.

I was tempted to ask my third most important question, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I half knew the answer, but it was only a guess and mostly I was totally flabbergasted and at a complete loss. It didn't make any sense. It went against everything I had done and said in my life. It went against my very nature! No, I couldn't ask it now. I had to wait.

My wrist was hurting again and I was tired. The forest was full of sounds that made me shudder and inch closer to the fire. But still, it was a pretty forest. The trees were thick and a lush dark green and brown. Even though it was early summer and beginning to get very hot flowers sprang up everywhere and were every color imaginable.

"Who owns this land?" I asked, not caring if I just broken a very still silence in our own camp.

Fred glanced at me from tending the horses and smiled. "King Thrushbeard does."

"Thrushbeard?!" I cried, very surprised.

"Aye, everyone calls him that now, milady after you named him that in the ballroom."

"You were there?"

He nodded. "Aye, I was there; I got quite a kick out of it, the way you went down the line finding fault with each one. If you had chosen him instead of mocking him, you would own this forest, the town we went through, and indeed this lovely green meadow. We are actually near the castle."

I frowned. "I almost wished I had chosen him, rather than be with you vagabonds."

Lawrence caught back a choke while Fred stared at me with something akin to indignation, or frustration. He shook it off quickly and said lightly, "Really? And what of his brother?"

"I don't know his brother."

"He was, methinks, the last one you insulted in the line. What was his name? Lawrence, do you remember?"

Lawrence shrugged and said, "Something like Prince...Daniel or...Nathaniel was it, sir."

"Prince Nathaniel of Durant is King Thrushbeard's brother?" I asked, amazed. I could hardly recall the faces of the two men; it had been so long ago. I only remember vaguely that the prince had had sandy hair and dark brown eyes; they were cold, and mocking. I shuddered. "No, I think your company is quite fine without _that_ prince here," I said.

"Why thank-you for the compliment, milady!" laughed Fred. "Don't worry I don't think we'll run into him on _this_ trip."

"Who says we're having more trips?" I asked indignantly.

Fred bowed elaborately and smiled with such a charming smile it was very unbecoming to his course dress. "Why, milady, have you forgotten so soon that we are engaged?"

I blushed hotly and scolded myself. I hadn't blushed in so long, and here I was doing it right and left. "Apparently my wish of forgetting that fact had come true," I said coldly, and was irritated to see Fred smile all the more broadly. I couldn't understand what made him so happy. It wasn't right.


	6. The Horrible Hindering Day

**Chapter 6: The Horrible Hindering Day**

That night was horrible. The ground was hard, and the forest which I had once thought so pretty, had kept me awake with its constant chatter. One of those despicable men, I think it was Lawrence, snored louder than the forest, and the other mumbled in his sleep about nonsense. I suppose somewhere near morning I did get some sleep because I actually woke up from a dreamless sleep. When I saw where I was I immediately wished I was asleep again and even groaned softly.

"I tell you it was the farmer's fault," said Lawrence, his muffled voice was over by the horses was meant to be loud.

"Oh? Did he confess to you?" challenged Fred. I heard him blow on the fire, and it crackled in response.

"No, but I could just tell."

"I didn't know you had a sixth sense."

"Now, sir, haven't you ever heard of instinct?"

"Hush with that title, Lawrence," growled Fred.

"But the wench is asleep," protested Lawrence. I guessed the 'wench' meant me, and I almost jumped up with fury, but I wanted hear more. I was still wondering why Lawrence treated the fool with such respect. They were both beggars.

There was a slight pause then Fred said lightly, "No she isn't."

I mumbled lightly under my breath about sneaky fools and reluctantly sat up to glare at them both. Lawrence rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever with the horses. Fred smiled brightly at me and said, "Good morning, princess. How was your night?"

"Horrible," I spat.

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"No," I said coldly. I decided I wouldn't give him the pleasure of talking; it was just fuel so he could tease. I was tired, grumpy, and hungry. I wished we would just go home. Correction, I wished _I_ would just go home. Which reminded me of a question I had to ask. Running my hands through my unruly dark curls I asked, "How long will it take to get there?"

I winced as my fingers hit a knot and at Fred's answer: "Depends, milady. If we are set upon by robbers, it will delay us another hour or so. If it were to rain heavily today it will take us a whole extra day to reach it. If by some strange accident, we get lost, that might halt our coming for two days or so. If you are too... stubborn, that would suspend us another week."

Forgetting about my previous resolution to remain silent I snapped, "Are you saying that my attitude affects our arrival more than rain, robbers, and loss of direction? Well, you make a sorry fiance."

Ouch, I needed a brush!

"That is one way to see it," agreed Fred. "The first part I mean. But I prefer to think of it as a fact that you are more powerful than the elements and disasters of the traveling in the woods."

Was that a compliment? I narrowed my eyes at him, as if trying to get his meaning. But he just smiled, and I realized he was probably gloating over the fact he had just made me speechless again. Arrogant wretch! I clenched my teeth and concentrated on trying to get the bigger tangles out. I itched from a mosquito bite, and I felt gross.

I turned to Lawrence and asked, "Say nothing disastrous happened to us, how long would it take us to get to the castle?"

He glanced at Fred and mumbled something unintelligible. I rolled my eyes. He was a complete idiot; it didn't take a philosopher to figure that out. I thought about just forgetting the question since either I got an indirect answer, or mumbling. But I had to know. Reluctantly I turned back to Fred.

"Do you know?"

"Know what?" he asked. "How to read? Naturally do you?"

I gritted my teeth, but then a very short memory came into my mind. Hadn't I said something like that to Father? I shook it away and repeated the darn question for the third time, "If none of the things you mentioned happens, how long will it take to reach my home?"

He scratched his head. "I don't think we'll be able to get through this trip without one of them happening."

I looked up at the clear sky. "Well, if anything does happen, it will be your fault. One for being so stupid as to get lost. Two for being cowardly and weak in getting yourselves robbed."

"And three, if your temper and attitude stop us from going two feet," added Fred, still smiling, but it wasn't as large and cheerful as before. Ha! I had him irritated!

"Oh, and you think you can foresee my _temper_ and _attitude_?"

"Nearly," he replied. "It is becoming more and more predictable each moment."

"And what is wrong with my temper and attitude, pray tell?!"

Here he hesitated, and I gloated over my victory. Surely it would be hard for him to answer without being rude and un-gentleman-like which he claimed to be, and he had promised, well half promised, not to insult me again.

But my triumph was short lived. Instead of answering he threw the question back at me. "What _is_ wrong with your temper and attitude, princess?"

I gaped him. "Nothing!"

"But you have just admitted that there is something wrong with it. What is it?"

"I did not say anything of the sort! I was asking you what was...I was questioning why you would..." I realized he had said nothing was wrong with it. _I_ had. I took a deep angry breath and tried again, "You hinted that my...personality would refrain us from making progress, so I naturally questioned why you would think my personality would hinder us. You haven't responded to my inquiry yet."

There! That was exactly what I wanted to say. I loved having the upper hand. I knew I had it. _Fred_ (rolls eyes at such a simpleminded name) was reddening and his tongue ran along his lips and the inside of his mouth. This was sign that he was nervous. I had seen on many men before.

Finally he answered, "Just because I hinted that your personality would slow us down, doesn't mean it is a bad thing. By all means I actually enjoy it when you loose your temper, it is quite amusing to watch, and if you do explode, we will be obliged to stop and enjoy the entertainment. That is how your temper and attitude will stop us."

Lawrence smirked.

I wanted to slap him so bad, I nearly did it. Both of them! I jumped to my feet, and was about explode before I realized he would be enjoying the _entertainment_. Stay calm, I told myself, don't give him the pleasure. Taking a deep breath I said in my best _princess_ voice, "Sir, I do not appreciate your crude remarks, and your humor in thinking that I am entertainment. You are no gentleman as you claim to be. I recall you wishing to start on a clean slate, and yet here you've scribbled all over it already."

It was a pathetic comeback, not even worthy to be called one, but I truly didn't know what to say. I hated feeling this way, and rarely did, but this fool somehow had the ability to make me speechless. He was supposed to have been confused long ago, but instead he just came back for more until he'd won. Now _I_ was the one confused.

I was about to turn away, not wanting to see him gloat over his victory. But to my surprise the smirk didn't come. Instead his face fell, as if he were guilty!

"You're right," he said humbly. "I did want to start a clean slate. I'm sorry."

I gaped at him. Now what was _I _supposed to say? I had never been in a situation like this. Mostly the men who I had accused of being mean either fell over with embarrassment and remorse begging forgiveness, or brushed it off smoothly and turned it into flattery. This Fred fellow had done neither, had simply said sorry, and admitted I was right after he had totally won. I hadn't exactly triumphed with this new confession; on the contrary I was just confused. My gape turned into a glare as I considered him suspiciously.

After a moment's hesitation I snapped, "You should be!"

"I am. Will you forgive me?"

I blinked, unsure what to say. I would known if he was pleading and horrified at what he had done. But he was simply asking, as if he was asking if I was hungry. Baffled I shrugged, suddenly a little embarrassed that I had made such a big deal over it. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

I suddenly started, realizing what I had just said. "Forgive you?!" I repeated. "Never! You don't deserve my forgiveness. I'd spit on you if I felt like it." With those appropriate words I turned away and headed toward the river. I had to get this grime off my hands. I felt so gross I hadn't taken a bath in two days! Ugh!

I plunged my hands into the river and vigorously rubbed them together, as if I could wash away everything that had happened. The water was cold, and there was no soap. Muttering angrily to myself I splashed my face and shivered. It was cold! But it was water. I rolled up the cotton sleeves of my simple dress and rubbed my arms with the water.

When I was convinced I could not get any cleaner I sat on the bank and stared into the cold current. Sighing I tried to gather my scattered thoughts. Fred was indeed a confusing fellow. Whenever I talked to him I felt as if I was not saying the right thing and was making a fool of myself by reacting over the silliest things. They were not silly! This I tried to tell myself, and at the time of my saying them they did not sound absurd. But now when I thought about it...

I glowered. Where was I going with these thoughts? _I_ certainly was _not _going to apologize. I had done enough apologizing for my life. But I had to do something. I remembered what he had said about me entertaining him with my temper tantrums. That had hurt. I was not some circus freak! But, hadn't the whole court been amused at me...outbursts.

No! I would not admit it. I was _not_ entertainment. I was simply showing my utmost hatred for things, and no one understood that. How could it be otherwise?

Still, doubt gnawed in the back of my mind.

* * *

Fred and Lawrence acted as if nothing had happened. They chatted about everything under sun, and didn't attempt to make me part of the conversation. Jerks. Not that I wanted to talk to them, of course, but I hated being ignored nevertheless. It is very rude. 

"Don't you agree princess," asked Fred suddenly. I jerked my mind away from my drifting negative thoughts to look down at him with a cold questioning look. He had let me ride the horse while I walked. Well, I think he was mostly afraid of meeting my nails. I was not about to ride with him again!

"What about?"

"Aren't you listening?"

"No. Why should I?"

"Because the conversation is revolving around you, of course."

That startled me. I had not heard my name or my title mentioned at all. In fact I hadn't heard a word of their talk for...five minutes now. I stared at him, my ignorance and demanding question of what about glaring in my eyes.

"We realized we are rough company, and have not been, and do not even know how to act like gentlemen. We have decided that Lawrence will hurry on ahead to tell your father that we have found you. That way it won't be such a shock, and your father might even send a troop of servants to take better care of you. What do you say?"

Truth, I thought it was a brilliant plan and I could've squealed with joy at the thought of servants and a caravan at my disposal. Instead I took a deep breath and shrugged, as if I were weary of the whole deal. I was. I could hardly wait to get home, and thought of a rose scented bath with my maids...I shivered with pleasure.

"I take that for a yea. Lawrence will go ahead under one condition. If you say the magic word."

I blinked at him dumbly. Had I heard him right? "Excuse me?"

"If you would be so kind as to say the magic word then I will have Lawrence go on ahead."

"What's the magic word?"

"Ha!" laughed Lawrence. "I told you she didn't know it."

That ruffled my feathers a bit and I searched my mind for the magic word. But I couldn't picture it in all my lessons. I asked carefully and half sarcastically, "Could _you_ be so kind as to let me in on your little secret? I never would have guessed you _had_ magic."

"Come now, everybody knows it," sighed Fred exasperatingly. "This is what you are to say, 'Fred will you _please_ have Lawrence..."

"Wait, wait. You want me to say _please_?!" I couldn't believe him. I only said please when being sarcastic, and perhaps when I'm trying to persuade my gullible father. Who did he think he was? My mother?

Fred wore and irritated scowl. "You interrupted me," he said flatly.

I rolled my eyes. I had hadn't I? I suddenly wondered how many other people I had interrupted unconsciously. Probably not many. Then again, who would contradict me other than this fool?

"But yes, that is exactly what I want you to say. If you do, then Lawrence will go. If you don't...then we'll continue on together."

I gulped down my rage. "I'll say nothing of the sort," I hissed in a low malevolent voice.

He grinned happily. "I didn't realize you enjoyed my company so much, princess!"

Now I was trapped. I knew I was. I could very well, say that I didn't enjoy his company, which was the obvious case. But then he would point out that if this wasn't the case then I would have deigned myself to say please. Gritting my teeth, and fuming, I tried to pick the lesser evil of the two.

"Oh, you are cruel," I said thinning my eyes. His eyes widened with innocence, but they sparkled with victory. I couldn't think of a way to get him back. Not then. Not yet. Sighing with reluctance, I said softly through my gritted teeth, "Will you _please_ have Lawrence go ahead to relieve me of your sour company?"

"But of course!" he cried grandly with the biggest grin. He nodded to Lawrence and the young man, after looking almost worriedly at him, kicked his horse and galloped off.

What had I done? Now I was alone with this creep who was supposed to be my husband! Ugh! Ew! I inched the horse away slightly from him. I studied him from a distance, silently, and critically. His hair was dirty, but under the dust I could tell it was a dark blonde, a sandy color, and full of sand. He couldn't have been older than thirty, but his limp and slightly hunched back made him look older. His face would have been a little handsome if he had just shaved that straggly beard, and washed that grime from his face. And his eyes...I couldn't see them from this distance. I didn't remember what they were, and leaned forward, trying to see...

"Milady? Are you ok?"

Fred was looking at me strangely, and amusedly. I immediately straightened and looked away, irritated. "I'm fine. I was just stretching."

He laughed. "Come, on we've a way to go."

He could say _that _again!


	7. Learning

**Chapter 7: Learning**

We...excuse me... _I_ was forced to continue the journey with that pig headed jerk, Fred, in silence. He would occasionally try to attempt a conversation with me, but I would not give him the pleasure of talking. Oh, no I kept my lips zipped and my gaze hard. In fact I didn't even deign to look at him. He really didn't even deserve that. Well, I didn't look at him when he was looking. I _would_ sneak peaks at him once in a while to find out what he was thinking, or just to make sure I hadn't missed anything in his appearance. Nope he was still a dirty man who likely slept with pigs. Ew! He was always nonchalant, and didn't seem to care I was mean to him, just walking along his merry way.

That didn't help my mood. But what did was the very pretty scenes and countryside we passed. I may have been rather cynical but I always had a soft spot for beautiful landscape. I don't know why, it was just in me, which was why I spent most of my time in the gardens. This place really impressed me because it was almost as beautiful as my gardens only it was _natural_. No one took care of it but itself. Yet it still managed to grow some beautiful weeping willows, large noble looking oaks, and the hard to find maples. There were many fields along the way an they were always either filled with tall, lush, green grain or filled with every flower I had in my garden and some I didn't recognize. Oh, I could go on and on about the sheer beauty of my surroundings...but Fred _had_ to interrupt my thoughts about this moment.

"Are you thirsty?"

I forgot my resolve and gave an icy glare. "Thirsty?" I repeated in disgust. "Of course I'm thirsty!! I've been practically dying of thirst this whole time. Finally! I was wondering when you would attempt to be a gentleman and offer me a drink."

"I wasn't offering you a drink," retorted Fred. "I was simply wondering if you were thirsty."

My mouth practically dropped open. Why that little inconsiderate...

He cut me off abruptly by grinning evilly and adding, "Shucks, I was just kidding, princess. There's a stream nearby where we can fill our water skins."

That made him doubly evil. Fools weren't allowed to tease princesses. Especially me. Heck, no one was allowed to tease me!! Giving him a proper menacing glare I snapped, "The stream is probably filthy, but I suppose it will have to do; since that is all you can offer."

"Oh, I can offer more," assured Fred. He tilted his head to side a bit and added with fake concern, "But I'm not sure your pride will accept more."

My pri...! Wait, he had a point there. I was rather proud. But that was a good thing...right? Of course right! I had a _right_ to be proud. It was only right. Right. Ugh. I hated that word.

The stream was not far as he promised and I had to admit that its sparkling bubbling surface matched beautifully with my already gorgeous surroundings. It wasn't quite as filthy as I imagined. Fred offered his hand to me but I completely ignored it. I would get down by myself. I moved my leg over the horse's neck so I sat side saddle, away from the fool. Suddenly I had a sick feeling.

It was a long way to the ground. I hated heights!

Swallowing my fear and being filled with pride, I slowly let myself slip down. Yes, it was a very long way down, I forgot that this was hard ground, not the soft straw or even cushioned pillow they had for me whenever I stepped down from anything!

My landing was hard and excruciating, but before I could completely collapse, Fred caught me. I gasped from the contact of...the pain! It didn't hurt too much but the last time I had experienced so much pain was when I had kicked my bed post because father wouldn't let me get a new dress from Froc. Needless to say I don't handle anger with violence anymore.

It was at this moment that I realized the fool's arms were still around me, holding me...tenderly. Desperate and shocked I yelped and grabbed onto the horse for support. I clung as if for dear life and glared at Fred. My ankle was officially in pain, and I was sure it was sprained. Oh, how I hated that fool.

"Are you ok?"

"My ankle is sprained," I said flatly.

Concern, _real_ concern flashed through Fred's eyes. Ha! He certainly should be concerned. I was sure there was a law somewhere that punished jerks who injured royal persons. I decided to rub this in.

"The last time I got hurt the kid who injured me got banished."

Fred's eyes widened. "Well, you better not let your father know about this. We can't have you be banished."

"Me?!" I repeated, dumbfounded. "You're the one..."

"No, I'm not. You slid off the horse yourself and you landed on your own. I had nothing to do with it...Except to make sure you didn't fall completely."

How could I argue with that? Duh, how I always argued!

I opened my mouth insist that it was his fault no matter what when a thought struck me: Argue without sounding like a spoiled bratty idiot. Hmm...I racked my brain. I couldn't. Confused and frustrated I shut my mouth tightly and shot dagger eyes at Fred who was waiting for a biting response.

When he got none he gave a little nod and said quietly, "May I look at your ankle, princess?"

"What do you think you are? A doctor?" I slid my dangling ankle behind my other leg as if hiding it from him. There was no way I was going to let that...man touch my ankle.

"Well, I _am_ an odd man," he countered. "So I _have_ been taught some art in healing. If it is just a sprain I can easily..."

"It's a sprain, and it'll stay a sprain. I don't want it to get _broken_. So stay away!"

He hesitated and for a moment I thought he was going to hog tie me just so he could examine the thing. I prepared to use my teeth and nails. In the end he shrugged nonchalantly and said lightly, "Well, if you put it in the stream here it will feel better."

Now I hesitated, uncertain if I should. I didn't have the slightest idea for a sprain cure. Maybe the cold water would just make me have frost bite! I went to the low bank and tried to gracefully squat but to no avail. Having dipped my hand in the cool water, I examined it. There were no bugs, but I thought I saw some sort of dirt, or moss...My thirst overcame my pickiness and I sipped it up.

When my throat was satisfied and I made sure Fred was not looking, I slipped off my shoe and stuck it timidly into the stream. The sparkling water was ticklish, and...I liked it. I thrust both my feet in the stream and wiggled my toes. It hurt to wiggle the sprained one, but I did it anyways. It felt so good! I loved it! A smile crept to my face as I burrowed my toes into the gooey mud. That felt funny too, but it also felt very soothing.

Fascinated with my new discovery I didn't notice Fred watching me, smiling as well. I didn't even notice when I began humming happily. The sound startled me, and I looked up as if to see whom it was that hummed.

Fred seemed to read my thoughts because he said matter-of-factly, "It was you."

Again that infernal blush crept up my cheeks, and I abruptly pulled my feet out of the water.

"Oh, no stay here. You have plenty of time to soothe your feet, I'm going to go up stream to...do a little fishing. I won't be gone long." He smiled encouragingly and disappeared into the trees.

Slightly nervous, but happy to go back to my serene moment, I snuggled my feet into the river mud. My smile returned as I realized something, Fred was actually learning to be somewhat of a gentleman.


	8. Stars are for Everyone

**Hellooo!! Thank-you all for reviewing, and special thanks to my beta reader: Jyocka.  
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**R.M. Whitaker- **I know, isn't he a darling? lol I'm surprised you came all the way to fanfiction to look it up! Thanks! I need to visit fictionpress again...**  
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**daring2dream-** Thank-you for reviewing, and don't worry I plan on finishing this one.**  
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**Backroads- **She can't stand those thoughts. It's fun playing with her mind, cause she can think and do about anything and everything. Ha, ha, she's such a handful.**  
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**Firefly- **I've never heard of that movie, but I have to admit that is the basic outline of the story I copying from. But it sounds sooo... easily done I had to twist it up a little. I love the original, too. Thanks for reviewing!**  
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**Crayola Color Sky- **He is an odd man isn't he? lol, thanks for reviewing!**  
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**InChrist-Billios- **You have a very good smelling sense. lol. Writing Ruthia's bratty character is actually easier than I thought it would be. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or bad one. ha, ha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Chapter 8: Stars are for Everyone**

He was gone for far too short a time, and he did not bring back any fish. I thought about commenting on it, especially since his face looked rather disappointed, but then decided against it, when I reminded myself I was not to talk to him—no matter the temptation.

When he offered to help me onto the horse, I had to accept since my ankle was sprained. This was a fact I could not deny, the pain would not let me. However, I made sure he knew that it was only because I was in pain that I let him assist me; otherwise I would never have allowed it. I also made sure he understood how much in pain I was.

"I understand," he said at last, in a patient voice. "I have had sprained ankles before."

I realized that he was really saying, 'I know about the pain, so stop telling me about it.' It was a tactful way to close the issue completely. I considered ignoring it and remind him on a regular basis that my ankle hurt, but decided against it. What good would it do? The man would probably do nothing for me.

_You mean you will not let him treat you._

I scowled inwardly. Consciences were really the most annoying little voices one could encounter. I was actually rather surprised. I had not heard that infuriating little voice in a long time and had never let it get so loud.

Naturally I retorted back angrily with the obvious factor that he was a dirty fellow who would probably make it worse. Not only that, but I was not going to agree to his treatment after I had refused it. That would be _humbling_ myself, and that was out of the question. I would not risk his inferior or nonexistent skills as a doctor.

_If that is true, why did his advice on resting it in the water succeed?_

Luck. The word sounded pathetic even to me. Still, there was no way I would ask him to examine my injury. If he were to offer again...I _might've _accepted with an air of condescension that he would be sure to notice. With that settled, I stared grimly ahead.

I don't think we managed to cover any ground that day, for there was not a detail in all the land around us that struck a familiar cord. I had never been much of a traveler and therefore had not come to know the land's characteristics.

"Are we still in Durant?" I wondered when Fred declared we would be stopping in the present clearing for the night.

"Yes, the border is another...oh about three miles away. Your castle is another twenty miles from the border."

I paled. "I can't believe it! I didn't think my kidnappers had taken me so far. We only traveled..." I paused and suddenly felt like smiling sheepishly as I finished, "We only traveled most of the night on horses that seemed to be chased by the devil."

Fred laughed. "You've answered your own question, milady. Now, will you permit me to assist you from your mount?"

Naturally I hesitated and sent him a suspicious glare before saying, "I suppose I can grant you the honor, yes."

He laughed again. My landing was easy, as it should be. While Fred unsaddled the beast, I wondered why I had not become enraged at his first chuckle. I did not wish to be entertaining, remember?

"Princess, if you don't mind, would you please gather up some sticks to make a fire?"

I gaped at him. "Sir, I believe you just called me a princess."

"Yes, that's right," he replied, undeterred.

"Princesses do _not_ gather fire wood!" Did he not know this? Even though I'm sure he did not associate with royalty on a regular basis, he should sure know that we did not do any sort of hard labor. Goodness we didn't even dress ourselves!! I stopped at this thought. Heavens, I just sounded like some sort of china doll that was incapable of doing anything on her own. My mind backfired, and before Fred could reply I snapped my chin up and added, "On a customary basis, that is. However, they can if their survival depends on it."

I did not wait for a reply, but strode as regally as the injured ankle allowed into the woods. Stopped several yards from the proposed camp site and I suddenly found myself reeling. I dropped the chunk of wood in my hands and nearly gasped. What was I doing? Had I really just obeyed an order of Fred the Frustrating? Where had my mind gone?!

Still, I could not march back into camp and refuse. I would _not_ be seen as a fickle lass. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I scooped up the fallen timber. Once I had gathered what seemed to be a sufficient amount, I headed back to the clearing. I was about to throw down the wood and declare loudly that I was finished and that would he hurry up and build me a fire, when Fred grabbed my arm gently and put a finger to his lips.

I glared at him questioningly. "Why?" I asked in a tone that wasn't quiet.

He pointed toward the far end of the clearing. The grass rustled and I saw a lump of white. I blinked. It was a rabbit. A tiny little bunny, to be exact. It was nibbling on a blade of grass. Its wee nose was wiggling furiously, and its bright pink eyes stared placidly at me.

"There's your dinner," murmured Fred.

I gasped. "Oh, you couldn't!" I cried in horror. At my outburst the rabbit turned tail and darted into the foliage. I was slightly disappointed at its departure, but intensely glad it had escaped the brutality of this horrid idiot.

Fred regarded me curiously. "I didn't realize you had such a soft spot for animals."

"I don't," I retorted. "It's just...I've been hunting with my father before and I found it rather depressing to see a live innocent animal and the next moment it is dead. There is no fun in quenching the spirit of a live thing only for sport. It's despicable."

"Well now, I wasn't going to shoot it for sport. We don't have an abundant kitchen and cooks at our disposal you know. We only have the game around us if we wish to eat."

"I'm not hungry," I responded quickly. Of course my stomach said otherwise, but I would never allow it to have a say in anything.

"That's all very well, but I am."

"You haven't got a speck of food in all those bags on the horse?"

"Well now..."

I had a sudden urge to stamp my foot and scold him for being such a child. "There had better not be a crumb of anything in those sacks of yours before you even _think_ of killing a bunny rabbit."

"Of course, of course," he said quickly. "On my honor as a gentleman I won't even think of killing a bunny rabbit until my sacks are completely void of crumbs. Unless, I have milady's permission to act accordingly, so as to save ourselves from starvation."

"Well said," I replied haughtily. I sat down on a convenient stump and adopted an air of regality. I was very good at that. "You now have my permission to make a fire, promptly." I glanced around and added, "It almost seems as though night descends swifter in Durant that in Luzcando."

Fred bent to use the stones he had collected to create a fire place. "On the contrary, milady, I believe the days are lengthening due to the fact summer is nigh. We have traveled longer than you assume. We've made very good progress today."

I was startled by this, since it was the exact opposite of my thoughts. Still, how could I argue this fact? I had not seen any mile markers, nor did I count the steps of my horse. I had no dial, and therefore had no idea of the time. With considerable alarm, I realized I had even forgotten the date! I gasped at this realization and Fred looked up from where he was expertly stacking the wood.

"What's wrong, milady?"

"What's the date?" I asked, slightly embarrassed by my desperate tone.

"It is the last day of May."

"Oh." This was good. My birthday was not until the middle of June. This meant I still had plenty of time before a new set of fashionable gowns arrived from Froc. Father always gave me dresses for my birthday. I did not say anything more, for fear of embarrassing myself further. This made me inwardly blanch. I had become more humiliated in these past two days than in my whole life. I had never thought of myself in such disquieting ways. It almost seemed as though...I was _re_considering my character...

"Are you sure you are not hungry, milady, I realized I have plenty of food in my sacks."

For once I was grateful for the interruption. Those sorts of thoughts are very unhealthy for my mind. I regarded the stuff he was taking out of his packs with suspicion. There was a bun type victual, a dark chunk of...was it meat?

He saw me glaring at his offer and said reassuringly, "I swear this was never in the form of a bunny rabbit, milady."

Was he laughing? I looked into his face and noticed the humor lines at the corners of his mouth. No, he wasn't, but he was having a hard time keeping it in.

"I'd feel safer with the bread."

His smile broadened, and he handed me the brown roll. I bit into it, and was surprised to find it was the not the hard tack I was expecting from a pack like his. It was sweet and if it had been a little warmer, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had come fresh from the oven. I wanted to comment on it, but refrained. The fool needed no encouragement, remember?

"You have a good sense of humor, milady," said Fred as he sat down beside me.

I tucked my dress under me and asked in a rather flat tone, "Is that a compliment?"

"It is the truth."

I raised a brow, but did not grace him with a reply. If he was trying to get me into a good mood, it would not work. I was use to flattery, or anything near it. When I had finished the bun, I found myself craving another. But would I ask? Certainly not.

Thankfully Fred, always ready to please me, asked casually, "Would you like another?"

I glanced at him condescendingly. "Only if you happen to have another."

He did.

"Look, there's the first star."

I raised my eyes upward despite myself and immediately caught glimpse of the sparkling light. The sun's rays were barely gracing the horizon now, and the crickets had already begun their orchestra.

"That's the tip of Pandaris' nose," I commented dryly.

"You know the constellations?"

I was rewarded with the genuine surprise in Fred's voice. He was looking at me with what looked like...was it respect? No, it couldn't be. I shrugged easily, keeping my gaze on the darkening sky. "I don't always have an easy time getting to sleep, so I've made it a hobby to examine the heavens. There, the others are coming out. You can see his whole body now."

"Aye, and there is the Eagle."

I smiled.

The sight of the stars in their twinkling glory always did have a calming effect on me. I wasn't actually making pleasant conversation with the man (heaven forbid) but I was speaking of what I really enjoyed, and I couldn't get mean about that. Mean? I wasn't mean; I was simply an expert at putting people in their proper places.

"And poor Eglantine," I added, still maintaining an indifferent tone.

"Who?"

"Eglantine," I repeated, for the first time tearing my eyes from the heavens to look at Fred. Now he seemed truly puzzled. I relished it, "The stupid fool who fell in love with a man far above her station. He wouldn't pay her a single glance, so she moaned and whined until she died."

I looked at him, but he wasn't looking back at me, but gazing at the sky, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"She was an idiot if you asked me. Especially since there were plenty of farmers doting on her. She shouldn't have fallen for the impossible." I added this last bit as hopefully an obvious hint. I had forgotten for a split second that he was a fool.

"Where is she?" he asked, examining the sky the sky as if it would tell him a secret.

I did not deign to point it out. "She is made up of thirteen stars, the unlucky number. She's kneeling, begging, really. The left paw of Pandaris is her right hand. That connects down to her elbow and up to her shoulder. The two close stars below her shoulder is her waist."

"I see her. In Durant she is called Margaret."

I had never heard of such a name, and tried it softly on my tongue. "It's does suit a commoner more."

"Margaret is the name of the queen of Durant."

My eyes widened. "Oh." I could think of nothing else to say.

"I had not every heard of the tale behind the constellation, m...my mother never told me the stories, when she taught me the stars. Is there some reason why Margaret, or Eglantine, was honored enough to be placed in the heavens next to such figures as Pericles and the Eagle? I doubt it was because she was a poor lass who was rejected by her lover simply because she did not have as much money as he."

So he had taken my hint, and was coming back with one of his own. I kept my face blank. "Why yes, of course. She was placed in the heavens by none other than her lover himself. He felt sorry for the wench, and so bought her a position in the sky with a hundred gold pieces. I was actually disappointed in him after that, wasting his money on a silly girl."

Fred chuckled. I was beginning to believe that the sound was pleasantly amusing. He was truly amused at my words.

"You can not buy a position in the sky with gold," he scoffed.

I glared at him. "And how would _you_ know? Have you ever made an offer?"

"No, but..."

"Then I _don't_ think you should be arguing on this matter."

"Who did he give the money to?" he challenged.

With my eyes fixed on Eglantine's kneeling figure I smiled a tight smile. "Contrary to what you might think, fool, I don't know _everything_. I have never asked the man."

"Then I hold true to my claim that money doesn't buy everything."

"Excluding your improbable idea of not being able to buy a constellation, what else can money not buy?" I snapped turning my head to glare at him.

Fred did not look at me when he answered, and I was glad for that. "Money, although it has joined many in matrimony, has never _ever_ bought unconditional true love."

I bit my lip and turned away, anger seething in me. He was right, and I knew it.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course not," I growled. I did not like the road this conversation had somehow taken, with no help from me, mind you. "I wish to sleep now, good night."

He looked at me, surprised, but then nodded willingly and left the log. As he handed me my bed roll he whispered so softly I almost didn't catch it. When I did, I wish I hadn't, so I pretended I hadn't heard and rolled my self up in the blankets. At least they weren't itchy.

Still, his words echoed forlornly in my head.

"At least you didn't _dis_agree."


	9. Eggs, Contracts, and Latin

**Thai Libre-** lol, I think you're getting to know Ruthia pretty well. Or is her personality too predictable? I think she'll be calling him a lot more names in the future. Thanks for reviewing!

**Bint Beyyoudh-** Yay! A new reader! Thanks for the grammar tip, I really do need all I can get. I actually rarely really read through it myself, I'm rather lazy. But I'll start doing it now! Thanks for reviewing!

**daring to dream-** You're right, she can't change over night. Oh no, still, I'm glad you noticed the little things, because they really count. Poor girl, she doesn't know she's changing so she's all mad and frustrated.

**Jyocka-** Beta! I wasn't planning for the whole dress idea to appear, it just popped out my fingers. Ruthia can be like that sometimes.

**littlema-** Thank-you! My wrists are much better and I've been working on my other stories trying to put my thoughts on paper...er screen, but that is easier said than done. I hope to have Not Easy updated before I disappear on all the summer vacations my family is planning.

**Backroads-** Oh, she is definitely more than she seems. Even bratty princess who seem to have no minds but anger pick up talents here and there. As to the dresses...what else has she got to live for?

**leann-** Noticed that did you? Ha, well, it was perfect for the situation. I should probably post a thing that says it isn't mine. Thanks for reviewing.

_Thank-you all for reviewing! This one is shorter, but I don't know when I'll be able to update before I start the vacations for the summer. I'll try though!_

**Chapter 9: Eggs, Contracts, and Latin**

That insufferable fool did not let me finish my sleep. He awoke me rather loudly by shaking my shoulder and calling me "his lady". Ugh. I moaned and tried a tactic that never worked with Sue - pulled the covers over my head. He was stupider than Sue was and did not take them off.

"I'm not ready," I spat, and hoped he would understand me, even if I was under a heavy blanket.

"All right, princess," said Fred, "But I must say every moment you stay beneath your covers, the time between us and your royal escort lengthens."

I glared with my eyes closed and a blanket over me. "I'll get out when you make a fire!" I rejoined.

It was far too soon when I heard the crackles of a morning fire. I stuck my head out and glared viciously at the fool. He was cooking up some eggs on a skillet. He was far too fast. When he saw me glowering at him, he smiled brightly and said good morning.

"Where'd you get those eggs?" I demanded. I doubted he'd been carrying them in the pack. Eggs would never survive such a trip.

"A man came by here a bit ago and gave them to me."

"He _gave_ them to you?" I repeated incredulously.

"Yes, he was a very kind old man who had plenty, and saw that I needed some to feed a grumpy princess, so he gave them to me."

"He was as stupid as you," I replied.

"On the contrary, he was a traveling philosopher."

"Oh, so he was even more foolish than you. Men who sit around trying to figure out why things are are the very paradigm of idiocy. Where did he get the eggs anyway, if he was a _traveling_ dreamer? Does he carry hens around with him?" I inquired scornfully.

Fred's glance was confused and frustrated. I felt triumph surging in me. Still, he did not let it go without an answer, and his answer was naturally infuriating. "I don't question where gifts come from, milady. But if you really wish to know, then you might ponder the question for a very long time and _perhaps,_ just maybe, you'll figure it out."

It was a subtle insult, and I flared instantly. "I am not a philosopher!"

"I don't think anyone has ever thought you were, milady, so there is no need to worry. Still, it is not a crime or a revolting thing to use your head once in a while instead of drilling others for answers." He suddenly grinned happily. "I did not realize you were so curious!"

The fool! Did he not realize I was being _sarcastic_? I clenched my teeth and pointedly ignored him the rest of the time. He did not seem to mind, which made me even more furious. Strangely, he did not ask me to assist in any of the chores, as he cleaned the pan, packed the bedding, and readied the beast. I was rather hoping he would, so I could scorn the idea vehemently to make up for my stupidity the night before. But he only asked gently if I wished him to examine my foot.

That presented a bit of a problem. I remembered my inward promise on the previous day to accept his offer to inspect my injury. Couldn't I change my mind? I debated with myself, and it must've shown on my face because Fred said in tauntingly casual voice, "Or maybe I'd rather let you continue to suffer."

Like the ninny I was, I rose to the bait and declared hotly, "You stupid jerk! Get down on your knees and fix the mess you made! _Now!_"

Grinning, he swept into a mockingly elegant bow and replied, "With pleasure."

I wanted to kick him.

I wanted to kick myself! How could I be so dumb? Oh! What was I thinking? How could I be thinking of such low names for myself? I wasn't a ninny or dumb or stupid. Humph. I really was going insane with this hideous fool in my presence. The sooner we met Lawrence and my retinue the better. Still, it would take a long time before I forgave my father for putting me up to this tomfoolery.

My fears proved to be true as the fool palpated the ankle confidently. Arrogant jerk. I quivered at his touch and he asked stupidly, "Did that hurt?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you always this stupid? Or are you making a special effort today?"

He ignored my comment and murmured, "I've got a salve that will ease the pain. But it is just a pulled muscle that should eventually leave. I'm actually surprised it still hurts." He looked at me suspiciously, as if he thought I was faking it. Idiot! Couldn't he see it was swollen?

"I fell hard," I replied bitterly, glaring at him meaningfully.

He leaned in closer, his eyes just as steely as mine. "Next time, wait for me to catch you, milady."

If I had been a course peasant I would have spat at him. But no, I was a lady, and I did not spit. The thought of slapping occurred to me as well, but...by then it was too late as he sat back to give his attention to my foot again. It was only then that I realized my cheeks were hot.

Was I blu...No, on second thought, I realized I hadn't been so angry with a single person in a long time that I had forgotten what it was like to have my face red with fury.

"I'll wrap it, which should also help. It isn't sprained, just strained. The best medicine is rest and time. So, I'm sorry, but you can't be stomping or kicking."

"I've never done that!" I hissed.

"I know, but you want to." A flicker of amusement flashed through his eyes. Oh, I just realized they were the simplest of colors, grey, just like his character.

Still, was it so obvious? Could I seriously be read like a book by anyone even a fool like him? I nearly grew desperate. Well, if he could tell that I wanted to stomp and kick, then why wouldn't he back off? It was completely infuriating.

As he applied the salve and wrapped it with a cloth, I realized that he had had the last say in...I counted, _four_ of our arguments that day! But how...?! I gritted my teeth, and looked away the whole time, determined to keep my resolve to ignore him. Partly because of my rage against him, and partly because I didn't want to end up looking like a complete...well a complete...never mind.

I refused his offer to assist me onto the horse and somehow managed to descend onto its back, without too much difficulty. Still, it cost me a bump to my foot, which nearly had me swearing like a sailor.

As usual, he took my fuming pointed silence for granted and began our journey at a steady pace, he walking rhythmically beside the horse. I wished he'd walk faster. Better yet, leave me alone. I took a calming deep breath. It was only another day before I would be rid of the fool and I would be home again in my hot bath and gaggle of obedient servants.

Like the day before, we passed through valleys and forests of the most beautiful scenery. Sometimes Fred commented on it, probably noticing my enchanted gaze, but I would not honor him with an answer. In fact I managed to forget about him entirely as I engrossed myself with the natural verdure of the land. Some of the flowers I did not recognize and I wished I had a book in which to press some. Really, plants, like stars, have a special place in my heart. Plants and stars are never rude or stubborn; they knew their place and stayed there, always beautiful, and always willing. They were perfect.

We met no one on our travels, which had me curious, but I didn't question it. Durant was a rather uncivilized and unpopulated country; however, it was bigger than my own Luzcando. See, I _do_ listen during my lessons!

The sun had not yet reached its apex when we finally heard another pair of hoof beats approaching. Fred slowed his step, but I dug my heels into the horse's flanks. We were _not_ going to stop. He looked up at me and said, "It's Lawrence."

Before I could argue, the man himself came cantering along the bend, the trees shading his appearance. But it was Lawrence. I gritted my teeth. He was alone.

He pulled on the reins when he saw us, but I urged my horse forward. "You idiot!!" I shrieked. "Where is my retinue? The soldiers? The servants? How _dare_ you come back empty handed, you jerk! This isn't fair." I shouted, turning suddenly to Fred whose eyes had grown, as he looked at me in complete astonishment. "I _said_ please, didn't I? Why didn't he go ahead and bring my father? You all are nothing but a bunch of wicked blackguards!" I wanted to cry, I was so mad. But the tears didn't quite make it to my eyes.

"Princess," spoke up the wretched Lawrence. "I did inform your father of your rescue, and he was pleased to hear of it. I asked if he wished to send a company of men and servants for your comfort, and he replied no."

"Liar!" I screamed.

Lawrence bristled slightly, but he continued doggedly on. "I swear it, milady. He said he was sure Fred and I could keep you safe."

"Safe, _maybe_," I spat. "You've just been lucky to keep me safe so far, but I'm certainly not feeling _comfortable_...or proper. I'm a princess and you two have been treating me like a...a peasant! I still deem you a liar!"

"I have proof," replied Lawrence calmly.

That made me catch my breath. I watched warily as he drew a rolled parchment from his pocket. He unrolled it with a flourishing flick of his hand. Dismounting, he walked towards me, his face looking far too triumphant. This could _not_ be good.

"This," he said calmly, "Is a marriage contract drawn up by your father King Carlos Salvadoro Monarch of Luzcando between you and...Fred here. It is already signed by his majesty in behalf of you, Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadoro. Now, all Fred has to do is sign it and you two are man and wife."

I was too shocked to scream. I was too angry. I was too _scared_. I watched dumbly as Fred studied the parchment carefully as if convincing himself of the legitimacy. Finally he looked up at me with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Well, I say this is better than a troupe of servants. Eh, Princess?"

My fear and desperate feeling overwhelmed me and my eyes watered. I shook my head. Half of me yelled that it wasn't true. It was all a big horrid joke, but a more logical voice stated that the contract was authentic. Out of all the things that came to my lips were the words that were closest to my heart. Not empty angry words or ranting accusations, just a quiet plea, "Please, don't."

I was amazed at the calmness in my voice. So were Fred and Lawrence. They stared at me wonderingly as if...they didn't know me. Who was I kidding? They _didn't_ know me. Neither did I. They glanced at each other, as if asking one another what to do.

_Carpe Diem_, I thought, and spoke up my voice quiet and even a little quavering, "Please sir...Fred. I don't know why you want to marry me, but I _do not want to marry you._ I'm not ready for anything like that. I don't want to marry _anyone_. Just let me go back to living with my poor father. He needs me, and I need him. I can't leave him...not now."

So maybe I did sprinkle a little sentimental lies in there. At least it worked.

"All right, Princess Ruthia," replied Fred. "I won't sign it, but only under one condition."

My triumph froze in my throat and I blinked in confusion. "What's that?" I murmured.

"When I left my little hometown in Durant, I left a sister who thought you to be her idol. She adored everything you did and said and wore...everything about you. I really don't know _why_ but girls can be funny like that. If you will come with me to meet her, then I will free you from this contract. Agreed?"

A fan? I had a _fan_. Well, I suppose it was only reasonable. I mean, I was the most beautiful woman in all the land. Surely every maiden under both noble and mean circumstances were just dying to meet me. But why should I deign to allow a mere peasant lass to behold my glory? My lips tightened as I thought of the answer…because of that stupid parchment my father so wickedly drawn up.

"Agreed," I said tartly. "But as soon as your sister has seen me, you had better take me back to Luzcando _immediately_."

Fred's smile grew. "It would be my _honor_."


	10. First Impressions

**I first must apologize to ALL of you for Ruth's rudeness. I'm embarrassed at her behavior. But she refused to be nice. I promise next chapter she won't be**** nearly**** so uncouth! You have my permission to smack her.**

**Thanks for the reviews! And thank-you Jyocka my beta!  
**

**Chapter 10: First Impressions**

"Your home town had better be close at hand!" I had to yell over the crash of thunder and roaring pitter patter of the blasted rain. It was only the second day of our journey to Fred's hometown and my fan; it had started with an overcast sky, and a bad breakfast. The blasted rain had quickly followed, and I had pushed back my hood when my skin got soaked. What was the point in having it on? It was just a heavy, sodden burden. Due to the dark clouds I had no idea what time it was, but I was sure the fools would force me to travel well towards midnight.

Fred either didn't hear, or chose to ignore me. Either way, his silence infuriated me. I was on the horse by myself, since the extra weight of Fred slowed the poor creature down as it lumbered through the mud. Lawrence tried to insist that he walk, and Fred ride, but the man wouldn't listen. I had learned that Fred rarely listened to another's advice, the arrogant jerk.

To my surprise he stopped all of a sudden in his muddy tracks causing the mare to halt as well. Tilting his head toward me, he flashed me one of those annoying grins and asked, "Do you see the light?"

I squinted into the gloomy, wet obscurity, searching for the supposed glow. I saw none. Frustrated, I glared back down at Fred and shook my head. He pointed to our far right, and I peered again into the darkness. There, flickering in the sheets of downpour, was a spark of light.

"I'd say that's it," he called out. "Right Lawrence?"

As if awakening from a nap, Lawrence shook himself and looked at Fred with half opened eyes. He nodded dumbly and muttered something. How could the man sleep under such conditions? He let out a weak cough and mumbled nonsense again.

The horse lurched as Fred started for the right, and I instinctively grasped the mane. I was sure when I finally slid down from the cursed animal my legs would not be able to return to their normal position, and I'd walk squat legged for the rest of my life. It was my fault, I suppose. I was anxious to reach Fred's hometown as soon as possible, so as to return home sooner. I didn't let them stop for lunch, and barked every time they even thought of stopping. With the rain, there was no hot dinner, and Lawrence and Fred chewed on bits of jerky. My own stomach was feeling far too upset to hold anything.

I had done a lot of thinking since that stupid servant of Fred's had so triumphantly waved that blasted contract in my face. I knew I was being blackmailed, and that I could do nothing about it. If Fred wanted me to do anything, he had only to reminisce about a certain parchment and I would _have_ to do his bidding. I was in a very sticky position.

But what could I do? My father's signature was as good as mine, if not better, and I was in no way even capable of running away. Where would I go? Who would take me in? I had no friends. I had two younger sisters, but father could easily find me. But would he drag me to the altar hog tied and struggling? No. I wouldn't allow for such a disgrace. However, running away was hardly on my 'what to do' list. For me, it was to get this bloody agreement through with so that I could go back to my castle and try on the dresses. I wondered what colors they would be this time? Surely nothing could beat the Azure...

We had reached the source of the light, and I recognized it to be a large cottage. It was about two stories high, and made of simple adobe bricks and thatch. I wondered if it really kept rain and snow out, but it appeared to be better off than most of the mean huts I'd seen that belonged to poor folk. I slid off the horse, hating the way my dress stuck to me. My once lovely hair lay limply on my shoulders, and stuck very unbecomingly to my face. I pushed the wet mop away as Lawrence automatically grabbed the horse's reins, taking them around the house to where I assumed the stables were.

Fred placed a hand gently on my back and pushed me forward. I glared at him, but he smiled encouragingly. I wondered how he could still smile with the rain and late night. We stepped up to the door and Fred rapped soundly on the wood. I realized that if this was Fred's home he should just walk in. I didn't mention anything just then, as we could hear movements within.

Eventually the door opened and candle light flooded the doorway, revealing a tall stately young woman. Her plain brown hair was braided carelessly, and she stood shamelessly before us in her night gown and shawl. She gasped at the sight of us, but quickly opened the door wider.

"Fred!" she whispered, surprised. "We did not expect you so soon!"

"Really, Minnie I never take long," drawled Fred, pushing me forward into the dry house. "I thought you'd realize this by now."

The maiden pinked, and my womanly instincts suddenly told me that this country lass with a starched night gown was to some degree in love with Fred the Fool. I nearly laughed. Who in the world would want that idiot? Of course, only a poor girl with no other prospects. Even now, she probably hated me, knowing I was somehow associated to the man she wanted. I could not wait to tell her there was no way I would be stealing her precious Fred.

"Where's Lawrence?" wondered the girl. She still hadn't looked at me and I felt a sting of irritation.

"Taking care of the horses, of course; he'll be inside in a moment. Minnie, please show Princess Ruthia to her room."

She finally deigned me a glance over. Her glance was sad, and of course envious. She looked about to say something, but Fred's tight smile silenced her. I immediately wondered what it was she had to say. I was actually expecting more from her. Surely the announcement that I was Princess Ruthia should have raised an eyebrow, brought her to her knees and made her remember her manners. But no, she just nodded and turned away to light another candle for Fred. It was almost as if I was _expected_. But that was a preposterous idea.

I said nothing as I followed her up the steep, narrow steps. I was in such a sleepy condition I was surprised I did not stumble and fall. At the top of the stairs I saw a row of bedrooms, most doors closed, others open. Soft snores and deep breathing emitted from many of them. I was right in my assumption. It was the middle of the night.

"Here you are, princess," she was forcing a smile as she opened a door to a modest bedroom. I walked blindly in and shut the door in her face. I let the soaked cloak drop to the floor, and I fell onto the mattress, giving myself into dreamland.

Some time in the wee hours of the morning I suppose I got cold and got under the covers, because when I opened an eye, my head was under them.

A soft giggle, made me open the other. Then I groaned. Oh, dear it was morning, and I was in Fred's house. Could anything be worse? I felt movement on the bed, and I immediately tossed aside the covers, ready to rebuke the intruder. I stopped when I saw who it was though, and stared, wondering if I was still asleep.

A little girl, no more than six sat cross legged at the foot bed, a soft purring kitten in her arms. Her head was adorned with long straight strands of dusty blonde hair. Freckles dotted her nose, and her large brown eyes were doe like, curious, and full of happiness. I did not remember the last time I had seen such a young child. The sight startled me. What was a princess to say to an unexpected child in her room?

"Who are you?" I muttered.

I must have said something else because she smiled brightly, slid off the bed and stood right in front of me. I backed away a little.

"I'm Aspen. May I call you, Ruthia, princess?"

"Ruth will do," I replied, slightly surprised at her request, and my own answer. Of course, it would be far more proper if I had her call me by my title, but at the moment I did not feel like royalty. I felt very hungry. I furrowed my brows and asked, "Is the breakfast ready, yet? What time is it?"

"Oh, breakfast is past. We all already ate. I don't know how to tell time yet. Mama hasn't gotten around to showing me." She smiled brightly. "Maybe _you_ could! We could borrow father's big gold watch, and you can tell me what the little dashes and ticking mean."

I shook my head. How had I just gotten into this? "I'm not going to do that," I replied flatly. "I'm going to eat first."

"But we all already ate," protested Aspen.

"Who are we?" I inquired.

She began counting off on her fingers, "Mama, Papa, Gwen, Fred, Master Hyde, Master Daniel, Sir Joseph, Minnie, Lawrence, and me!"

I put a hand to my head. Too, many names...I couldn't handle it all. I recognized Minnie's name, and of course Fred and Lawrence, but the rest were completely unfamiliar. Was Fred's family this big? Goodness, I wondered which one was his sister. Perhaps the very little girl before me. I hoped this was true, for it meant I could leave at once.

"Are you Fred's sister?" I asked.

She emitted a giggle, and shook her head.

"Is...Gwen?"

Again she chuckled. "Oh, no. Gwen is Lawrence's sweet heart. He said so himself. They are always cuddling, and smiling at each other. It's funny to watch."

"I'm sure. Who is Fred's sister then?"

"Lilly. But she isn't here."

I could have screamed. "What! Where is she?"

Aspen looked surprised. "At her home, of course. She doesn't live here."

I gaped at her. "What do you mean? Is this not Fred's home?"

She smiled, forcing back a giggle and shook her head. Her giggly responses were getting rather annoying. Infuriated, that he had not told the truth, I tossed away the covers and jumped from the bed. I noticed that there was another bed in the room, smaller, obviously Aspen's. Great, I shared the room with the bubbly child.

Ignoring the fact that my hair was wild, and my dress wrinkled, I flew carefully down the steep stairs to the room below where Fred stood chatting to Lawrence and another girl, who was apparently Gwen, since Lawrence had his arm around her comfortably.

Fred grinned when he saw me. "Princess! Good morning! How was your night?"

"Is this not your home?" I demanded pointedly.

He looked startled for a moment, but then saw Aspen trot up behind me. He shook his head casually. "No, it's not."

"But you said...!"

"I said nothing of the sort," interrupted Fred. "I said this was my _hometown_. I was born here. I don't live here. I live further west. This is Lawrence's family. His parents own this boarding house. Let me introduce you to them all. They are like family to me. I see you've already met Aspen, Lawrence's youngest sister." He smiled broadly at Aspen and she giggled.

Aspen grinned at me and pointed directly at her brother. "See! I told you he got all cuddly with Gwen!"

Fred laughed. Lawrence pinked, and Gwen chuckled. I rolled my eyes, still annoyed. Gwen detached herself from Fred's henchman and extended a hand to me, her eyes warm, and her smile bright. She was young, probably a year or two younger than I was.

"Hi, Ruth, I'm Gwen. I'm so pleased to meet you."

"I wish I could say the same," I sniffed, folding my arms defiantly. "But I never lie."

Her smile froze in shock, as she lowered her arm. Lawrence looked mad, as if unsure whether to scold me or comfort his darling. I nearly smirked. But suddenly Fred stepped in. He was still smiling that obnoxious, calm, casual smile, which had become his perpetual trait.

"It is in the Princess's nature to get to know someone before warming up to them. It is a trait, which I've come to acknowledge it as being wise, especially for someone with royal blood. Don't worry, Gwen, soon she will see that you mean no harm."

Was he serious? Is that what he saw in my prickly remarks to everyone? A wary welcome to those I haven't trusted yet...well, I suppose it was plausible. I had never thought of it in that way. Especially, as something wise? Who would have thought my sharp tongue would be seen as wise? The fool! I nearly flattered.

He continued, "Gwen is a handmaid to Lawrence's mother, Marta. Come, I'll introduce you to her." He placed his hand on my arm, as if to lead me to this Marta, but I stood my ground, determined to set things straight.

"Where is your sister?" I challenged.

"She is not here, yet. I've just sent a messenger to her, telling her to come here to meet you." His tone was reassuring, but I was unhappy.

"How long will she take?"

"About a month."

"A _month_!" I shrieked in horror. "Do you mean to tell me I have to stay in this wretched hovel for a whole month before I can see your sister?! I have a birthday to attend to, and many other...royal responsibilities that can _not_ be detained!"

I drew in breath to continue, but Fred slid in to say, "Really, princess, I don't think it is necessary for you to yell and make a scene. I can hear you perfectly well, even when you whisper."

I stopped, to glare. Was he _rebuking_ me? How dare he...I suddenly happened to glance around. Aspen was staring at me widely with those liquid brown eyes. She appeared shocked, as if she had never heard anyone shout before. Warmth tinged my cheeks, and I felt as if I had just somehow sullied some of her innocence. Gwen looked uncomfortable, and Lawrence hadn't changed. I noticed Minnie in the doorway; she was smirking. Smirking! As if the whole thing was some big entertaining show. If anything, I would _not_ be anyone's entertainment. I lifted my chin up higher, and gave her a superior look. The smirk faded and she glared effectively.

Fred went on. "If you'd like we can discuss the matter privately, later. Now, I wish to finish the introductions. Ah, here is Minnie, I believe you saw her last night. She is Lawrence's sister, and is always willing to help anyone with anything, a trait greatly to be admired."

Minnie blushed and smiled, and I felt a prick of...oh, I don't know, irritation I guess. Girls in love are always so annoying to watch, the way they pink and smile. She nodded politely, yet coldly to me and murmured, "'Ello, princess."

"I wonder, Miss Minnie," I said mockingly, "How long have you been in love with this fool? Too bad Fred has never noticed, eh?"

She jerked her head up, eyes widened with disbelief and panic. Fred's expression was priceless. He stared at Minnie with astonishment, then back at me with...I don't know what it was. Shock? Admiration? Revulsion? Perhaps all those things, one after another.

"You have no basis for that!" she gasped.

"For what?" I asked, "For the fact you're in love, or that Fred here has never noticed. Easy. Womanly instinct. I don't suppose you have any."

Her face flushed red, and she stuttered out nonsense. I almost felt sorry for her. On second thought, I nearly laughed at her. She was more foolish and dumb than Fred. At least Fred had managed to over his awkward moments.

Suddenly a new voice spoke up, laughter issuing forth, "What truth, milady! What truth!"

I turned in surprise, and was immediately enveloped by large warm arms, and a shaking body. I gasped in astonishment and stepped back, but the man kept a tight bear hug around my shoulders. I glanced up, half fearfully, half angrily into the beard covered face of a giant. Perhaps I did allow for some exaggeration, but the man was huge! Towering at least two feet above me, I suddenly felt tiny and minuscule. His laugh rang out again as he took in my shocked expression.

"I am Jess, Minnie's Father, and I repeat, what truth, you've just spoken, my dear! Who can not help but fall in love with Fred, for he is affection itself! Minnie, loves him, aye, like a dear brother, for that is what he is! I love him, Lawrence loves him, Gwen loves him; we all love him. In time I'm sure you'll come to love him as well." He winked at me and I flushed angrily. Chuckling he turned back to Fred and declared, "Welcome home, lad!"

He released me and scooped Fred up into one of his enormous hugs. I gasped for breath, amazed that I had barely escaped death by a hair. If he had held me any longer...

"Tell, me lad," exclaimed Jess the giant, as he turned toward me, his large palm still resting on Fred's shoulder, "Who is this fair damsel, who is so inclined to speak her mind?"

Fred, recovered from his shock and from having his breath squeezed out of him, grinned his flashing smile and said, "She is Princess Ruthia, of Luzcando, Jess. She will stay with us until Lily can meet her. I dare say you and she will get along swimmingly."

He laughed again. That laugh was getting annoying. He smiled benevolently at me through his massive beard. "You may dare say that, Fred. I completely agree. Welcome, Ruthia of Luzcando. I welcome you to my humble home." He stuck out his hand in greeting.

I ignored it. "It is humble indeed," I agreed. "As well as dirty, mean, and quite quaint. I hope I shan't sully my appearance during my stay here."

Jess raised a brow, and then emitted an amused chuckle. "Begging your pardon, Ruth, but you aren't exactly the cleanest sight around either."

I flushed, realizing he was completely right. I could only glare at him angrily, since truth was on his side. I suddenly felt a gentle hand on my elbow. I jumped nervously and saw yet another new comer. She looked like a very old Minnie, and I immediately guessed her to be the mother of this motley crew...not that I'd say Aspen was motley...

She smiled kindly. "Be easy on the lass, Jess," she scolded. "She's only just awakened, and has gone through an awfully rough journey. Give us an hour, and you'll see her full beauty. Come, Ruth, I'll help you get proper looking."

I blushed, pleased at the compliment. After sending Jess a triumphant smirk, I turned to follow the good woman Marta. I nearly stopped, shocked. I had remembered her name! Heavens, what was the world coming to?


	11. Challenging Personalities

**Here you are, another chappie!! Thanks to my beta reader : Nienna Telrunya for betaing when she overload! I'm currently looking for another beta so....I'll be quiet!**

**Chapter 11: Challenging Personalities **

I was first bathed in a tiny tin tub in one of the upstairs rooms. At least the water was warm, and the ugly horrible-smelling soap bar did its job. I was granted some of Gwen's measly clothing, though she was a bit rounder. Gwen's peasant clothing was fixed when Marta tied an apron around me. I frowned immediately.

"An apron would not do for someone of my status," I protested. "I am a princess, and will remain so. Do you not have some sort of sash I can use?"

Marta chuckled. "The apron is actually quite becoming on you. We can not have you sitting around the house all day doing nothing. I've a mind to teach you some basic skills every woman needs to know. We'll start with washing the breakfast dishes."

I flushed. "Every _common_ woman might need these skills, but I don't."

"Perhaps not," she allowed. "But there won't be any danger in you learning; a princess should not be afraid of learning how to work."

"I don't _need_ to learn how to work," I countered.

She raised a brow. "Oh? I suppose, you _need_ to laze about the house?" I was about to retort angrily when she put a gentle hand on my arm, her eye softening. "Don't worry dear; you'll learn to enjoy it. You aren't the only one who hesitates to work. It's natural. But sometimes we do things not because we want to, or for survival, but because we know it makes us better people."

"How in the world might knowing how to wash dirty dishes make me a better princess?" I challenged.

"You'll be able to connect with the common people more," replied Marta. I was beginning to suspect this housewife had an answer to everything. I think if I had refused, she would have chuckled and bustled me right to the kitchen as if I were just a rebellious toddler. I slumped my shoulders in defeat. Only a month more and I would be free of this ridiculous affair. Marta smiled and said, "Now, turn around I wish to braid your hair; it is the most luxurious I've ever seen."

I sat mulling over my situation while Marta tugged at my locks. I liked the feel of it; it was like Sue attending to me in the mornings. I would no doubt be stuck doing all sorts of menial labors for a month. If I refused...like I said, Marta wouldn't allow it. She was very much like Sue; forceful, insistent, and logical. Only she was always joyful instead of grumpy.

There was the option of absolutely refusing and sitting firmly in a chair like a spoiled child, but that was not my style. I'd stamp my feet and retort, but I never resorted to sheer rebellion and immobility. Still, I sounded like a spoiled child, stamping feet and arguing...

I jerked my mind away from such unsettling thoughts and winced as Marta pulled a few tiny hairs at the nape of my neck. I was used to it, but it still irritated me that someone would be as thoughtless as to jerk my hair around like that. I was about to scold her when someone knocked on the door. Instead I picked up a mirror to see if I had changed into a barbarian or not. I was decent looking. Marta's washing had done me good. She had gathered my long dark curls into one French braid which drifted naturally to the side, and lay comfortably on my chest. It was simple, yet somehow elegant and lovely. I liked it.

Marta hurried to the door and peeked out. She gasped and declared, "Not now!" and closed it right up again.

Curious I asked, "Who was it?"

"Fred. I don't want him to see you yet. You aren't quite finished."

I flushed immediately. That was one thing I would not tolerate. Pleasant or not, I was not about to allow this woman to play matchmaker between that fool and me. I stood abruptly and went to door. She gasped again and made to stop me, but I flung the door open and stepped out, nearly colliding with Fred who _happened _to be still standing there.

I put out my hands to stop myself, and 'unfortunately' shoved him back. Startled, he grabbed my wrists to steady himself. Thankfully, my footing was sure and he righted himself.

"Fool!" I snapped. "You aren't supposed to just stand in doorways like that! People walk through doorways, and we can't be having idiots like you blocking them!"

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I wasn't expecting you to come out."

He said it so simply, without anything witty attached to it, that I lessened my glower in surprise. He was gazing at me, an odd look on his face. What was it? Drat that fool! His expressions were always mixed and so hard to discern. I found myself blushing under his scrutiny, and I glanced down. To my horror I found he was still holding my wrists.

I wrenched them free and promptly brushed past him, heading for the stairs. Thankfully he did not follow me, instead turning his attention to Marta. I reached the bottom of the stairs safely and glanced around, wondering what to do. A man in neat and stylish clothing stood in the large reception room. He turned from the window and I saw a pipe in his mouth. Immediately disgusted, I disregarded the fact that he was young and rather handsome, with a clean shaven face and angular features.

A smile broke from his lips and he removed the pipe. "Ah," he declared immediately putting on the charm. "And who might this dark beauty be?"

"Are you talking to yourself or me?" I snapped. "Because if you are talking to me, I find it highly offensive that you should consider me dark."

Not the least bit fazed he replied, "I was referring to your lovely locks, my dear. Such a color as yours is rarely seen in Durant. I am greatly attracted. Might I have a name?"

"How should I know?" I retorted. "You never gave me your name, and I don't want to carry it around. Names are a burden, especially when they come from someone as low and repulsive as you."

He bowed with a flourish. "I am Sir Walter son of Sir Joseph. And you are?"

"Not interested," I replied with haughty distain, and turned away from him. I walked into what I had guessed was the kitchen and found Gwen and Aspen busily filling two tubs of steaming sudsy water and dirty dishes. Aspen smiled happily when she saw me and stopped drying the plate in her hands.

"Ruth!" she cooed. "You look so pretty!"

Gwen turned as well as her smile was surprisingly genuine as she said, "Hi, Ruth. I'm impressed by the change Marta did. It looks great."

It didn't have anything to do with my own natural beauty, eh? I nearly sniffed, but stopped myself as that annoying insect of a man, Walter, came to my side. "Was I not right, then, my angel?" he pressed, a stupid smile on his face. "You are as beautiful as the sun."

I turned on him, eyes flashing contentiously. "Just a moment ago you said I was a dark beauty. Now you say I'm as beautiful as the sun? You stupid fickle man, make up your mind!"

That did the trick. He frowned, finally getting the message. But instead of leaving me along like a good rejected man he gave me another silly bow and said, "Forgive me angel..."

"I'm not an angel!" I spat.

"She's a princess!" declared Aspen.

Sir Walter gaped at the little girl then nodded sincerely. "You are absolutely right. She is a princess. I'm sure her beauty rivals even that of Princess Ruthia."

"She _is_ Princess Ruthia," cried Aspen again, even more exasperatingly than I could have said it. I nearly smiled at her with pride.

Again the man stared at me. "Really?" was his intelligent statement.

"Would you like to help us finish up the dishes, Ruth?" asked Gwen. I knew she was on Marta's side, and I was about to retort when that intruding insect called Walter buzzed in again.

"Fie, Gwen! How dare you ask this royal mistress such a question? Wash dishes, why that is below one of blue blood, and Princess Ruthia has the bluest blood in the world! Including that of our own princess: the very young princess Lily. Why, her reputation would be ruined if it were known she had participated in such menial household labor as that. Her delicate hands would be sullied by such an ignominious task of—"

"Shut up," I snapped irritably. This over-the-top dramatic rake was really getting on my nerves. Sully my hands? Ruin my reputation? Ha. I'd show him. "Give me the rag," I commanded Gwen. "I'm washing dishes."

Gwen smiled and moved aside to let me take over. I did take a moment to relish Sir Walter's expression as I accepted the rag. He was shocked, his mouth hanging open stupidly, and his eyes wide and blank with disbelief.

Finally he huffed an offended, "Well!" and stalked out of the kitchen.

I had never washed dishes before. I had seen others do, but that still didn't prepare me for what I was about to learn. I took the rag and wiped the tin plate. It looked clean. I handed it to Aspen. She giggled.

"No, you have to pass it to Gwen so she can rinse off the suds," she pointed out. "Besides it's still dirty."

"It is?" I couldn't help but ask. She pointed emphatically to a brown spot in the corner. It looked like syrup. Frowning, I scrubbed it harder. Most of it came off, and I passed it to Gwen. She inspected it as well, which I must admit made me rather offended. It was my first time, for heaven's sake! She must have seen the look on my face because she quietly dipped it into the rinsing water, scratching off the stain herself. I had to admit, this Gwen was a rather wise creature. She knew better than to incite the wrath of nobility.

"Do you have a crown?" inquired Aspen.

"Yes," I replied flatly.

"What does it look like?"

"I have many, and they all look perfect."

"Oh . . ." she breathed dreamily. "I wish I had a crown. I want a gold one with pretty little birds and flowers all around. I want the flowers to be daisies. I loves daisies. What's your favorite flower?"

The child's chatter was rather bothersome but I couldn't bring myself to refuse her innocent questions. "I'm not sure," I murmured. "I like them all." Truthfully I had never considered the answer before. No one had ever asked me. I was indeed someone who appreciated the floral world and relished the greenery and colorful nature around me, but I had never picked a favorite. They were all beautiful.

"Gwen's favorite flower is the violet, huh Gwen?"

Gwen smiled. "Yes, it is. You know why, too."

Aspen's eyes sparked mischievously. "Because it's the flower Lawrence gives you."

The girl's chuckle rang out merrily and she nodded. She didn't blush or look shy like most love-struck girls. She was bold and happy. "That's right. So, on my wedding day I'll have violets for my bouquet."

"I'll pick 'em for you!" declared Aspen. She looked at me benevolently and added, "And I'll gather all the flowers in the world when you get married to Fred!"

I gaped at her, horror stuck. How dare she say such a thing? How did she know of the contract? Fred must've spread the news of his 'luck' at being 'betrothed' to the most beautiful woman in the world to the household. That arrogant fool! How dare he—!

"Aspen!" Gwen's tone was scolding. "You forget, Ruth and Fred are not engaged to be married."

"They aren't?" Aspen's enquiry was puzzled. "But how come she came with him, then? I thought—"

"She's here to see Lily," said Gwen firmly.

"That's right," I added. "I'm here to meet Fred's sister, although I'm reconsidering even that. Obviously that fool has told all of you of the contract and is being an arrogant idiot by declaring an engagement between us."

"He didn't declare anything of the sort," corrected Gwen. "He explained why you were here and what prompted you to be here. We understand that the contract is null unless Fred signs it. Aspen automatically thought you were a couple because Fred had told her someday he would bring his future wife with him. It was the lass's mistake. Please don't blame Fred."

I was astonished at her tone. She had at first been rather harsh and crisp, but ended with a gentle plea and explanation. What was I to say now? Aspen looked sorry for her error and Gwen appeared . . . how strange; the girl almost seemed worried. But why should she be worried? Ah, of course she had nearly angered a monarch, and that can be a very dangerous thing for a commoner. I immediately sought to calm her fears.

"I understand," I replied stiffly. "I forgive you of the tone of voice you used with me, and for the inconvenience of the child. I—"

"My name is Aspen."

I raised my brow in astonishment at the girl's firm voice. The young girl was standing with her hands on her hips, an insulted expression on her brow. She looked ready to kick me in the shins. I didn't realize such an innocent child could express so much anger. I hadn't meant to affront her. I didn't even think . . .

Oh goodness, this could not be good. Of course I had thought. She was a child wasn't she? Since when did I have to address a youngster by their given name? Since when did I have to address _anyone_ by their given name? They were what I called them whether it be child or man, fool or idiot. I did not have to deign to call on their special name.

"You _are_ a child," I said, just as firmly.

"So is Peter down the street," retorted Aspen. She actually had the gall to retort back! "Just because you are a woman doesn't mean I call you that. I am Aspen. You are Ruth. We have names."

Was this girl really only six years old?

"Now, Aspen," again Gwen's voice was a gentle rebuke. "Calm down. Perhaps the princess prefers to think of you as a child, since that is always a pleasant image."

Aspen's brows relaxed and she glanced up at Gwen. "Does that mean I should call her princess, since that brings up a better image?"

"No," I interrupted suddenly. I don't know why, I just didn't want her to be calling me princess. It was actually tiring to be reminded all the time that I was a princess in a commoner's house wearing commoner's clothing, and doing common things. Here, I was Ruth. "You must call me Ruth, always."

Aspen looked back up at me. "Ok. I'll call you Ruth if you call me Aspen."

I gritted my teeth. I _loathed_ conditions. "Fine," I agreed shortly.

Aspen revealed her wide smile. She returned her attention promptly to drying the dishes, and I worked on scrubbing plates, clean. Gwen was pleased with the exchange, I could tell. I wasn't sure if I was, though.

"Are you lovely ladies all most finished?"

We turned as Fred entered the kitchen, smiling affably. Aspen let out a giggle. I immediately turned back and concentrated on my washing, I was on the last one. I hadn't recognized his voice at first; it had been so kind and charming.

"We're planning on going to the market soon, and knew you'd love to go there."

"Oh, yes!" cried Aspen excitedly. She turned to me. "You'll come with us, won't you? Market days are so fun! There are so many things to see and smell." She sighed. "Papa gave me a penny for my birthday, and I've been saving it."

"Why?" I asked. Who had ever heard of such a thing? Saving pennies? Oh, yes how could I forget; the peasants groveled for them.

"Well, I was going to get something last time, but I wanted Fred to be there, because he always has good ideas." She grinned appreciatively at Fred, who tugged at one of her fair locks and replied:

"Soon you'll have all the good ideas, and you won't need me."

"But I'll _always_ need you," insisted Aspen, leaning in to give Fred a hug.

I realized there was a special bond between the fool and the child. It was obvious she revered him, and he appeared to hold a very particular place in his heart for her smile and childish chatter. What was I supposed to think of this? I remembered my sisters and other women sighing for a man who was good with children, but I could never see why. That is . . .until now.

There was just something _unique_ about the way Aspen's eyes lighted up and the way Fred smiled when they were around it each other. It was sweet, and strange. It was heart touching and . . .

Ach! Why was I thinking this? Why did it matter at all the way a little girl looked at her brother's best friend? What was so endearing and special about that? Why had I even noticed? _How_ had I even noticed?

"Are you coming?"

I realized Fred, Gwen, and Aspen were looking at me, waiting for an answer. Straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin I said, "I suppose so. Though I can't imagine what I could want from peasants."

Fred cocked his head. "You have money on you?"

My brows furrowed. I didn't. When that jerk Garret had kidnapped me I had been in my night gown, hardly an attire to carry coins. How could this happen? I was a princess without a cent! Not even a necklace or...well I did have a couple of rings, but I would never sell them. They were very valuable, and would not be wasted on a simple market.

"Of course I do," I replied stoutly. "But I shan't be wasting it on trifles."

Fred nodded in agreement. "Good idea."

I was startled. Usually when people agreed with me it was because they wanted to flatter me and be on my good side. But Fred had agreed because he really believed it was a good idea. And for some reason this flattered me more than all the compliments and praises paid to me by smooth suitors.

I left the house with Fred, Gwen, Aspen, and Lawrence, the latter who appeared to be rather pale and sweaty. I wondered if he was sick, but didn't mention it. Aspen clasped hands with Fred, and then surprised me by reaching for mine with the other. I did not protest, but felt rather uncomfortable. I hadn't held hands since my sisters and I were very young.

Aspen chattered the whole way, pausing only to know Fred's opinions and every now and then asking for mine. I replied shortly, unwilling to fully engage her. Lawrence and Gwen strolled behind us, murmuring to each other contentedly.

Jess and Marta's boarding house was near the middle of town, so it did not take long to reach the town square where the market was held. I had attended the bazaar at my capitol city with Sue, who knew where all the exotic silk stands were. Wherever I went, I went veiled, knowing the peasants were far too lowly to behold my beauty. But I did not have a veil here, and wasn't surprised when several farm boys and measly merchants paid me special glances. Fred noticed too, I think, because he kept glaring at them.

It was rather amusing, even as it was offensive. What right did he have to guard me? I wasn't his. On the other hand, it worked; the gawking men turned their heads and lowered their eyes. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or angry.

One man did not step down, even when Fred shot him the glance. Instead he came up to us, a smooth smile on his lips. He was dressed nobly, with a red plume in his velvet hat. He was handsome enough, with a trim black beard, and a sleek moustache, which was the style.

He spoke in a mocking voice. "So, you have returned, Fred the Fool."

How dare he? Only _I_ called Fred that.

"You are very observant, Raphael," replied Fred, cool as ever.

Raphael switched his gaze to me and asked, "And who is this lovely lady you've brought with you?"

I was really growing tired of people asking _him_ who I was. They could really just ask me. Eyes flashing, I snapped, "None of your business. Go away; you are offensive and preventing us from going to the market. Don't be rude and waste our time with your monkey's chatter."

Aspen giggled, as Raphael's eyes widened in surprise.

I gripped Aspen's hand and pulled her forward. I caught Fred's admiring grin as we moved on. My heart fluttered with pride—and I didn't know why. I turned directly to Fred and asked loudly, "Who was that arrogant jerk anyway?"

"He is Raphael the son of the mayor."

I huffed. "Well, he certainly thinks he's something. I hate arrogant guys who trample others just because...because...." I stopped. "He was very annoying." I had been about to say just because they were of a lower station, but realized I couldn't. Hadn't I thought like that only a moment before? Didn't I _still_ think like that? Goodness, I hoped I didn't sound like that ninny. He had sounded so . . . pompous!

"I completely agree with you, milady," declared Fred loyally.

I frowned, still disturbed by my thoughts. I wished he had disagreed with me, his friendliness was disconcerting. Thankfully Aspen squealed right then and ran to a stall.

"Look!" she exclaimed. "Silk!"

It was as if she had never seen the textile before, and had only heard about it in fairytales. I nearly shook my head in sympathy as Gwen joined her to finger the sleek cloth. The merchant glanced over at them disapprovingly, and muttered to himself. I don't think he liked them touching his produce.

"It's so pretty," gushed Aspen. "And it feels so nice! I wish I had some."

"Now, now," Gwen reprimanded her gently. She pressed her away from the stall slowly. "Don't covet things you know you can't have." But I saw how her gaze lingered on the rolls of deep cobalt, vibrant scarlet and bright gold.

"Can't I have just a piece?" she pleaded. "I've got a few pennies." She looked at the scowling merchant and held out her copper treasure. "How much—?"

"That will buy you a single thread," he responded flatly.

I frowned. He was rude too, and not at all compassionate. She only wanted a piece to touch! I was beginning to feel rather strange. Curious how I could feel so indignant and protective of a peasant child with tangled hair and a sharp tongue.

The feeling was strange and confusing that I remained silent the rest of the trip, hardly noticing my surroundings. While Gwen purchased basic necessities Aspen's bright brown eyes growing bigger with each stall, and her delighted squeals and exclamations as she examined the even the smallest artifacts. There were a few opportunities for her to spend her pennies on little trinkets, but her selection startled me. She was able to purchase a small bag of candies from a toothless, old woman. Instead of stuffing it her pocket to save for later she carefully counted them out for each of us.

I was still silent, watching, when at the end of the trip, Aspen, riding piggy back on Fred, slumped forward, fast asleep. I must have been staring because Fred suddenly flashed me a grin. Frowning, I turned away and concentrated on my steps, still pondering, still feeling strange.


	12. Nice

**Here you go, and special thanks to my new beta reader,** Rayndrop**! **

**Chapter 12: Nice**

It was a rare occasion when the peeking sun woke me up. I usually slept like a rock, and cherished every moment of it. But the morning after the market, I found myself opening my eyes voluntarily and wanting to keep them open. I sat up and glanced around. Aspen was slumbering peacefully on her side in the other bed, a strand of dusty blonde hair in her face.

Carefully, I slipped out from under the covers and tip toed over to her. After brushing the naughty strand from her eyes, I studied her a bit. I had heard of the term angelic used on me and heavenly beings, but as I gazed at Aspen's small round face, I knew what the word really meant. Her smooth skin was clear except for a dusting of freckles on her button nose. Her long thick lashes lay innocently on her cheeks which were rosy even in her sleep. Her lips were smiling slightly as if she were floating in a dream of clouds and laughter.

I smiled gently. Jess and Marta were truly blessed to have such a beautiful child. I suddenly wondered if my parents ever sat watching me when I had been a child. My mother had died when I was only eight, so I only remembered so much. I thought hard. It was a little frustrating, like blowing dust off an old book and making out the faded words. But I saw it. She had been tall; taller than father had even, which was hardly an accomplishment since father was short and round. But she had been very slim, with soft hands and a smile always on her face. Yes, it was her smile I remembered the most. It had been gentle, but filled the whole room. You couldn't feel sad or naughty when my mother had smiled.

Another memory entered my mind. Every night she would sing us to sleep. She was like that—she wouldn't let a nurse take care of us except pick up after us. She dressed, fed, consoled, disciplined, and taught each of us. But mostly I remembered she would sing to us. She had a beautiful voice, and we would always drift off to sleep with her melodies leading us to the clouds of dreamland. I imagined her watching us sleep as she finished her songs. For some reason this gave me comfort. I only hoped she had found as much peace and joy when she had watched me, as when I had looked at Aspen that morning.

Abruptly I stood up. I hadn't felt so since my mother's death. Not even my twin sisters' weddings affected me. Loretta and Esther were a year younger than I, but since they were twins, we did not stay close after mother's death. I had my interests, and they had theirs.

I dressed quickly and ran my fingers through my hair. Aspen had a comb, but I wasn't too concerned with it. In reality, I didn't care much for how I looked. I had no doubts that I was gorgeous no matter what I did with myself. Sanity was an essential, but my hair could live an hour without a comb. It had been Sue who insisted on spending on an hour or two on my face and hair. I actually liked the idea of going without.

The rooms were still shadowy as I went to the front door. My shoes were there and I put them on. I wasn't running away—I wasn't an idiot—but I did want to take a walk. I liked walking. I realized my ankle was completely better. Fleetingly, I acknowledged Fred was right. It wasn't a big deal.

The air was crisp and the dew in the grass glittered. Early mornings are beautiful, and I wished briefly that I had more time and energy to view more of them. I breathed in deeply and set out down the walk. Marta had a quaint garden full of practical vegetables in the back, but the front was filled with pansies, violets, sunflowers, and morning glories.

A few people were starting their fires and feeding their animals, but other than that, the world was quiet. The town Lawrence's family dwelt in was large enough for healthy enterprises, but small enough to be cozy and familiar. I was sure they were able to recognize strangers. Perhaps someone would even recognize me.

As if coincidence were connected to my thoughts, I caught sight of a large, wealthy looking carriage with the insignia of Luzcando on it. Luzcando! Was my father here? Repentant, and ready to take me back? I studied the carriage, drawing nearer. No, it wasn't the royal carriage, but it was official. They were probably ambassadors. But why were they here in this obsolete village? I thought. I was certain this town was near the border. Perhaps they wanted to squabble over border problems. See, I had learned a thing or two from the council room.

I realized letting these ambassadors know that I was there would be to my advantage. If ever I wished to go back home, I could come here, and demand they take me back. I did not want to return now (the contract held me back) but in case of an emergency. I was sure they would recognize me, even in my poor attire.

Stepping up to the door I used the knocker, hoping they were up. There was no noise from within. Annoyed, I rattled the knocker louder. There were voices within, and someone stumbled to the door. I stepped back as it opened, appraising the man who stood before me. It looked as though he was in the middle of getting dressed. His shirt was out, and he was barefoot, his eyes sleeping, and his dark hair tousled. When he saw me, his eyes widened and immediately he began to stutter.

"Princess Ruthia?"

See, I knew they'd recognize me instantly. I nodded. "Yes, I am. Who are you, and why are you in this town?"

The man bowed, and even bent to one knee. "I am Sir Mark, your highness, recently employed to be an ambassador for Luzcando's crown and country. My colleague and I are discussing border matters with the mayor here."

"Get up, man, I don't wish anyone to know who I am."

He rose, but kept his head down. It was actually rather annoying. Couldn't he look me in the eye? I wasn't going to flog him. He wasn't ugly, not really.

"My lady, why are you here?" he asked timidly.

I paused, unsure how to answer. I did not wish to enclose the Fool and the contract, but what I could I say? "I am on a mission of most importance, a secret mission sir, one that is very dangerous. I plan to be here for another month, but if at anytime, I think myself to be in danger I will come here, and expect you to send me to Luzcando immediately. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Aye, milady, aye. It shall be done, anything you say."

"Good." On and after thought, I added, "And I thank you. Tell no one of what has chanced here, not even your colleague."

He bowed. "Yes, milady."

I suddenly felt a little guilty; the poor man looked rather scared. Was I so scary? Perhaps he had heard that I banished people on impulse, and did not wish that. Not that I thought myself scary, but I wanted to be sure _he_ didn't think so. So I softened my gaze and added one last remark, "If I do use your help and you do perform it flawlessly, I will be pleased to honor you with the title of Captain. Farewell, sir."

I paused only a moment to take in his shocked features which quickly became very pleased and grateful. He smiled waveringly. "Yes, milady. Thank you my princess, thank you!"

I turned away, feeling a small warm feeling in the pit of my stomach. I nearly smiled to myself. I had not gone twenty paces when a voice approached me from behind.

"Out rather early, aren't you my lady?"

I turned my head sharply at the intruder. It was Raphael, that obnoxious mayor's son. I frowned instinctively. I hoped he had not seen me conversing with Sir Mark.

"Is that a stupid observation, or an even stupider question?" I asked coldly.

Surprise flickered across his face. He didn't know how to answer. Instead he ignored the statement and moved on, "Where did you come from?"

"Marta and Jess' boarding house." It wouldn't hurt to tell him a few things.

"No, I mean, where is your home? You are not from here."

"I am from Luzcando."

He smiled. "Ah. A fine place. A beautiful place—"

"You aren't telling me anything I don't already know. Must you always be so rude?"

He bowed. "I did not mean to be."

"Nonsense. Yesterday you were very insulting to Fred."

At that his face tightened, though his smile remained. "Let's just say the Fool and I did not start off on the right foot."

"I don't see what's wrong with starting off on the left foot. I do all the time."

This time a confused look crossed his face. It changed to a quick glance at me that obviously said he wondered at my intelligence. I wanted to huff. _Fred_ would have laughed and asked if I was left handed as well, which I am. But this dolt just went on, brushing it off as if I had not spoken.

"I wonder that you socialize with him. A lady of your standing isn't usually found in the company of such peasants."

"He's fine company," I replied through gritted teeth. Why was I defending the Fool? "And what makes you say I am a lady? How do you know I am not a peasant?" For some reason I did not want him to know I was Princess Ruthia.

"Your speech is too fine, too delicate, too superior—"

"Quit using so many adjectives. I get the point. But I haven't noticed a single iota of difference between my speech and Fred's, or Marta's, or Jess, except for the accent."

He didn't even blink. "They like to act like noblemen, but they aren't, not really. They are full blooded peasants who think too much of themselves. They should lower their eyes when nobles like us approach them, but instead they think us their equals."

He was lying. They were not proud, not like him. They had self-respect, but did not raise themselves on a pedestal. It was true that they thought themselves equal to everyone else, but so what? I saw no harm in this. They gave royalty their due respect, and that was all that I cared for.

"So?" I said.

"So?" sputtered Raphael. "That is disgraceful. Surely, you my lady realize—"

"I'm not your lady!" I snapped. My walk had been tainted. I was ready to eat something and talk to nicer people, like Fred . . . or Aspen. Yes, Aspen and Marta were very nice company compared to this freak. I sent him my best glare and turned away.

I easily found my way back to the boarding house. The morning glories were opening up, and I felt a little better. Smoke was billowing out of the chimney and the sound of chopping came from the side. Curious, I went around and found Fred chopping at logs. Chopping isn't a good word. Slicing is better. It seemed as though, for him it was no effort at all. Only a couple swings and he was on to the next one. Even though the morning was a little chilly he was sweating. I should have turned around and went right back then, but I didn't. After my talk with Raphael I felt a little softer towards the poor fool.

"Good morning princess, I'm surprised to see you up so early. Did you go for a walk?"

I nodded. "I met the mayor's son, Raphael."

He shook his head pityingly. "I'm sorry, that must have been an awful way to start your morning."

"It was."

He waited, as if expecting me to say more then picked up his axe again. "Well, maybe some mint tea will fix that. Gwen is making some for Lawrence, and I'm sure she'll share."

"Lawrence? Why?"

His face was unchanged, but I detected a hint of worry in his voice. "He's sick. Nothing big, just a fever and some coughing. Marta's tea will fix him in a jiffy."

"Oh."

"Perhaps you could help with breakfast; Gwen will be busy caring for him."

I nearly frowned, but decided against it. "Perhaps," I murmured.

He grinned.

I hurried inside. Why had I been so quiet? I hadn't even wanted to meet his eyes. Before I hadn't wanted to talk to him or look at him, but this was different. Perhaps I was feeling guilty for thinking like Raphael had in considering him a stupid, peasant fool. I realized he was more intelligent and likable than most of the noblemen I had met, which was no small number.

What was I thinking? Likable? Nonsense. He was mean and sneaky and . . . not likable. Intelligent, yes, I'd give him that much. But not likable. I had probably thought that because all the noblemen I had met had wanted desperately for me to marry him. But Fred hadn't. I wondered if he even cared, or if getting a marriage contract between him and the most beautiful woman in the world were all in a day's work.

I frowned.

"Ruth, what's wrong?"

I realized I was standing in the middle of the kitchen glowering fiercely at the teapot in the fireplace. Marta was looking at me with concern.

I shook it away and gave her a tiny smile. "Nothing. I came in for some tea."

She nodded, relieved. "For I moment I thought you were down with the same thing as poor Lawrence. Very well, it's on the fire, go ahead and get some. The cups are on that right cupboard. Aspen dear, will you please go get me some milk?"

Perturbed that I had to do it myself, I went to the cupboard. Aspen tripped out the door with a bucket in her hand. I hadn't noticed a cow or goat in the back and as I searched for something to pick up the teapot with I asked, "Where will she get the milk?"

"Our neighbor, Marley, has a cow; he's all by himself so he gives us half the milk for the wood dear Fred chops. Is he still chopping?"

I leaned into the fire with a random cloth. "Yes. I . . . Aii!!"

The teapot was hot! Instinctively I dropped it and it clattered to the floor, leaking out the brownish green drink and leaves. Marta clucked and immediate was picking it up with a mitt.

"Darling, haven't you ever picked up a tea pot before? A rag isn't sufficient."

"I realized that," I growled, holding my injured hand. Ok, only the very tip of my finger hurt, but I had never been burnt before. Oh, it hurt! I wanted to cry, but bit my tongue instead.

She finished cleaning it up and set more tea on. "It's all right though, that pot is very strong. Don't worry, I've got plenty of dried mint, and we can always get more from down at the river. Some time you'll have to go mint hunting with Aspen."

I nodded grimly. She finally noticed my pain and gasped. "Oh dear! I hadn't thought you might be hurt. But of course, you are. Here, let me see it."

I gave it to her and she studied it. "Oh, good, it won't blister. Give it a day or two. In the mean time, I'll find something cold for you." She bustled out.

The back door opened and Fred came in, hanging the axe up.

"How do like your tea?" he asked.

"Cold," I replied grimly. "I don't like it hot at all."

"Nonsense, it's disgusting cold."

"It hurts hot!"

His brows rose. "Did you get burnt?"

I looked away. "I dropped the pot."

Thankfully he didn't choose this moment to chuckle. "Where did you get burned?"

Suddenly it seemed very silly. "My finger," I muttered reluctantly.

"Stick it in your mouth."

"What?!"

"Stick it in your mouth," he repeated. "It will help with the pain. Where's Marta?"

"Getting something cold." I was still looking at him as if he were crazy. Was he suggesting that I suck on my finger like a baby?

"That will help too, but you should stick it in your mouth."

He was being very insistent. I looked at my finger. It was red, and I wanted desperately to stop the hurt. I looked back up at him, he was waiting. I was afraid he'd stick it in himself if I didn't, so I did. Immediately I felt ridiculous and took it back out again.

"Didn't it help?"

"I don't know," I replied sourly.

I think he understood because he said, "It's ok, really. Look, I've got a sliver in this finger. It hurts . . . some, and sucking on it will help. Now, I'm going to stick it in my mouth and suck on it." He did so, and I nearly laughed out loud. Somehow I managed a straight face.

"See?" he said, a small smile coming into his face. "Nothing wrong. People put their fingers in their mouth to ease pain, it's natural."

Again, slowly, I stuck my finger into my mouth. Avoiding the teeth I realized it did feel good. Gosh darn it, why did _he_ always have to be right?

He was grinning again. I think I blushed. It still felt ridiculous. As I sat sucking on my finger he washed his hands and face. Aspen came in with a bucket of milk. She looked concerned when she saw me and immediately asked, "Did you burn yourself?"

Fred sent me an I-told-you-so look and I nodded, unable to smile.

She gave me her condolences and set the bucket on the table. Marta came back as well with a disappointed look her face and a chunk of raw meat.

"Oh, good you've got it covered. I couldn't find anything cold enough. Sucking is a good thing though. It won't work once your mouth is all warmed up, but hopefully, you can keep it cool. I was hoping you'd be able to help, but seeing that you're injured, I'll have Fred do it. Fred are you busy? Will you chop this up please?" She waved the meat at him.

Suddenly, to the surprise of us all I took my finger out and declared, "I can do it!"

I suppose I was feeling indignant that she would think I couldn't do a simple task just because the tip of my finger was sore. Marta smiled broadly.

"Good!" She promptly laid a cutting board and knife in front of me. I felt a growing doubt as I looked at the slimy piece of flesh. What had I gotten myself into? I'd never cut meat before! How did she want it? Even if she told me, I wondered if I would be able to do it without chopping off my finger. It looked nasty and cold and slippery.

Fred must have seen my disgust and distress because he casually said, "I think they'll fry better if they are cut into small pieces, right Marta?"

"Of course," declared Marta who was doing something with the milk. I think she was making cheese, or butter. "Darling, get the bread out, will you?"

As Fred obeyed Marta, I set out on my task at cutting the meat into small pieces. I think it was ham. It was very difficult at first, since I tried to simply saw through it. The meat moved around and would not sit still enough for me to really get at it. I tried holding it still with a fork, but that wasn't sufficient. Finally, when I was so determined to get the darn thing to open up, I grabbed the chunk with my hand and sliced through with the knife. It worked. I gloated within. Although my hand felt nasty, I held on and cut the rest of the meat up. I didn't notice Fred's chuckles.

Once the bread, milk, cheese, and oddly cut fried ham were set on the table, Aspen ran off to gather up her father, Master Hyde, Master Daniel, Sir Joseph. While I labored hard at cutting up the meat, Marta told me all I needed to know about the renters in her boarding house. Master Hyde was a quiet traveler who had decided to stay for a few months to gather his provisions and earn money. He was rarely seen and didn't bother anyone. He ate like a hog, but paid his rent accordingly.

Master Daniel was also quiet. A younger man, who was a poor scholar looking for a job. He spent his time at the abbey copying down scripture and seeing if he could enter into the University. He was mostly silent because he did not approve of all the laughter and jokes that went on. He was on a serious note, and liked his privacy. His room was filled with parchments and ink pens.

Sir Joseph was an eccentric fellow. Apparently he was from Luzcando originally, knighted there, and fought in the king's service. Now he was well into his seventies and could speak of nothing but swords and horses. His son, that obnoxious Sir Walter, was a measly squire for some pompous knight who, and visited occasionally, usually to see if he could obtain some money from his father. Sir Joseph had little gold and earned his rent by fixing things, which was his only skill. Several times Jess had let him off on the bill only to shut him up.

If I hadn't been so intent on the meat I would have laughed at her descriptions. Fred had left when the bread had been cut, but Aspen gave all of her opinions on each of the characters.

"Now, you mustn't repeat a word I told you," instructed Marta as she put the pitcher of milk on the table. "It wouldn't do to spread gossip."

"Of course," I said, a little sarcastically. I had never liked gossip.

Aspen soon came galloping back followed by the crowd. Thankfully the table was big and accommodated all, especially since Gwen had stayed upstairs with Lawrence. Jess naturally took the head of the table, across from Marta, but he surprised me by saying, "Ruth, my dear, please sit on my right hand side."

In Madam Catalin's class of etiquette I knew the host saved his right hand for the most special guest. But then again, of course I would sit there. Who was more special than I? Still, I felt appreciated, since I knew Fred was thought of highly in this house. Fred sat across from me, sniffing the food expectantly.

"This looks good, especially the meat." He flashed me a knowing grin.

I betrayed nothing, and avoided his glance with a cool expression. Minnie, who was sitting next to Fred, glanced between us, and I think her lips twitched downward. Sir Walter was about to sit next to me, but he was saved when Aspen slipped in next to me. I smiled slightly at her as Sir Walter glared. I awkwardly bowed my head as Jess said grace. Once amen was said Marta briskly began filling dishes and passing them out.

Jess was served last, and he had the largest amount. As I nibbled at my bread he shoveled spoonful after forkful into his mouth. He wasn't particularly disgusting in his eating, but I was amazed at how much he consumed. But he was a very big man, and I supposed he had to eat like horse to maintain his strength. He caught my eye and paused to say, "This is excellent, is it not, Ruth?"

Before I could reply my indifference Marta declared, "Ruth assisted me tremendously. She will make a most skillful cook."

"Really?" Jess lifted his glass to me. "Thank-you my dear, for a most scrumptious breakfast!"

"Hear, hear!" declared Fred.

To my surprise I felt my cheeks heat with the praise and I ducked my head. "Thanks . . . er . . . you are welcome." I concentrated very hard on my eating, but I did notice Minnie glance at me again, and this time I had no doubt she was envious.

"Here, this is the hour hand. It points to the hour. See, right now it is pointing to the five, so it is five o'clock in the afternoon. The minute hand is pointing a little bit after the five, so it's about five ten. You don't have to get the exact minute, just the general idea."

"That notch in the middle means it's half after, right?"

I smiled at Aspen. She really was a bright little girl for being only six. "That's right. You already know most of this already. Just a little practice and you'll be an expert!"

She fondled the large gold watch that we had been using in her lesson on how to tell time. She looked up at me and said, "Mama says we usually eat around seven, so the big hand will pointing at the seven and the little hand will be pointing . . . at the six?"

"The twelve," I corrected. "And what if someone says it's a quarter til three, where will the minute hand be?"

She paused a moment before pointing at the nine. "There!"

"Wonderful!" I declared. It actually surprised me how easily the compliments came out of my mouth. Usually I never or very rarely gave out compliments, but Aspen really deserved them. She sat beaming and again studying the face of the clock with new understanding.

I had already lived at the boarding house for almost a week now, and each day was finding something new to do. At first I had wandered the town, or garden, thinking, or just enjoying being alone. But then Marta had put me to work doing dishes, helping with the cooking, and entertaining Aspen. I didn't particularly like helping with cooking, since I still didn't like getting my hands dirty, but I liked sitting still and listening to Aspen's chatter while she mended a shirt, or worked on her letters.

Sometimes Fred joined us, but he was usually out working, doing who knows what. It seemed his grin had never left his face since I began doing more chores. I knew he was pleased, but I mostly ignored him, determined to keep a distance between us. He was blackmailing me after all.

"My birthday is next week," declared Aspen abruptly.

I shook off my thoughts and gave her my attention. "Really? How exciting."

She nodded. "I'll be nine."

Now my eyes widened with genuine disbelief. "You're _eight_?"

Again she nodded brightly. I was shocked really. She was so tiny and cute I had assumed she was about six or younger. She had shown maturity, but her features and chatter said otherwise. She was really growing up. I watched her as she returned her attention to the clock, caressing the glass and peering down at the hands as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. I remembered her fascination of the silk and a secret smile began to cross my face.

"Minnie?"

I looked up quickly at Gwen's voice. She was standing the stairs, looking down with a wane expression and a basin of water on her hip. Dark circles unlined her eyes, and her hair was not combed. Poor girl had been spending a lot of time caring for Lawrence who had not shown any signs of recovering soon. She wiped her hand across her fore head.

"Oh, hello, Ruth. I thought you were Minnie. Could you please get me another tub of cold water?"

Naturally I still hesitated at the order, but I stood and took the basin from her. My eyes widened when I saw the water had been tinted with a rusty red color—blood. I looked up at Gwen, the question in my eyes so that Aspen would not worry.

She sighed. "His cough is worse," she murmured, hoping I'd get her meaning, then turned around and went back up the stairs. Totally ignorant of anything doctoral, I still wondered at the blood. Gingerly, I dumped the water out, careful to not get it on my dress, then I filled it up. I grabbed a new washcloth for her and carried it up to the room. I had not entered the sick room at all and I wrinkled my nose as I entered. The medicine did not have a pleasant odor, and Lawrence coughed a horrible throat-wrenching cough that made me feel very uncomfortable.

Gwen was stirring up a tea for him and to my surprise Fred sat at his side, gently pressing a damp cloth to his forehead. Lawrence's eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep except he coughed every now and then, and his face was screwed up in pain. Warily I set the water down next to Fred. Despite his depressing chore he sent me a grateful smile.

"What's wrong with him?" I whispered. I didn't really care one way or the other if the man was sick. Why should I? But I couldn't help but feel a little sorry. He looked very uncomfortable.

"He's been coughing up blood," replied Fred, in an equally low tone. As if to prove his point Lawrence coughed again and I saw the specks of blood on his lips. My stomach churning I turned away as Fred patiently wiped it up with the cloth. "I'm not much of a doctor, but he is getting worse. His fever is dangerously high, and his throat looks infected. Sometimes he's delusional."

"Why haven't you called a doctor?" I asked.

Fred glanced at Gwen who pursed her lips and concentrated on giving Lawrence the tea.

"Doctors cost a lot of money," replied Fred.

Of course, why didn't I figure that before? If anything prevented these peasants from doing anything it was money. Fred must have read my look, because he suddenly seemed annoyed.

"I can send for one quite easily," he said, his voice testy. "I'm just wondering if his sickness is worth going through the trouble. I would only get a good one who would undoubtedly heal him. I'm still hoping he'll get better with Marta's tea."

Slightly bemused at his aggravation I said nothing. Unable to stand the smell anymore I left the room to return to Aspen. She looked up at me as I descended and declared, "I'm going to become a rich doctor when I grow up."

"Oh?" I said, sitting beside her. "Why?"

"So that I can help all the people in the world. I'll charge the rich people lots of money for my services, but for the poor, I'll do it for free so they can be healthy, happy, and not have to work so hard to pay me off." She looked up at me. "I don't like to see sick people."

"Me neither," I responded sincerely.

Smiling she snuggled up to me. I wasn't surprised. The child was very affectionate and liked cuddling whenever she could. I think she got it from her parents who never hesitated to give me a hug or kiss on the cheek.

"You're nice," she said. "Lawrence and Fred said you weren't, but I think you are."

I flared slightly, that they should gossip about me, but then I knew they were right. Nice? What was nice? I was nice looking. I wasn't particularly nice to people. I didn't need to be, I didn't want to be. But I suppose it wouldn't have been . . . well nice if I had been. What did it matter what they thought anyway? Aspen thought I was nice.

For no reason at all I felt a tear prick at my eye. I didn't know why, but I laid my cheek against Aspen's head and murmured, "I think you're nice, too."

I was determined she would get that silk headband for her birthday.


	13. An Embarassing Week

**Again thanks to all my reviewers! Oh, and this chapter isn't betaed... so corrections will be appreciated.**

**Chapter 13: An Embarrassing Week**

I again awoke early the next morning. It was foggy outside, giving the whole world an ethereal look. I considered going on another walk despite the mist, but suddenly I heard a faint sweet sound. I thought it was music, but couldn't be sure how it was made. Perhaps someone was already up. This was good; I had wanted to get a hold of someone—Marta, Gwen, Fred—anyone so I could explain to them my wish to get Aspen a silk headband before her birthday. I was sure they would coincide with my hope and grant me the money to do so.

Hoping to go the market as soon as possible without Aspen suspecting, I dressed and skipped down the stairs. I paused, listening for the music. It was there, more clearly now, and apparently coming from the back door. I went there immediately and opened it. My disappointment flared slightly as I saw Fred sitting on one of the logs by the woodpile, his back to me. I was hoping it would be someone else. The mist was fleeting from the yard, but was still close, as if hesitate to go. In his hands was a wooden flute I had seen hanging at his belt when he had been a minstrel to my father. He seemed to be practicing because every now and then he would stop and try again, making the otherwise pretty song choppy.

"Already making noise, I see," I declared, interrupting him in mid note.

Unfortunately, he did not seem very startled as he turned to look at me. He faced me, shrugging. "Aye, I suppose so. Do you like it?"

"I've only heard jerky attempts at who knows what. I think the artist should be honored than to have his song demised by a simple peasant. Are you sure flutist is on your list as being an odd man?"

He grinned. "Oh, aye. And I thank you for your concern, but I don't think the song is demised yet, for it is not finished. I am the artist."

Ah, so he was a composer as well. The thought nearly made me laugh. I don't know why. It just seemed ridiculous that this _man_ who was a beggar, a minstrel, a fool, a dragon killer, and who knows what else would compose songs on a flute. He must have caught my thoughts on my expression because he smiled a sheepishly, looking down at his flute.

"I know it's rather strange, me trying to make harmony out of this instrument. I'm not very good, but I find pleasure in it, and so does Aspen."

I didn't say anything. His humility had taken me aback. Usually Fred was cocky and confident in all he did and said. But he was now admitting his weakness in something, and he was doing it, not for himself only but for a little girl. It seemed as if he was enclosing to me a secret of his heart and I didn't understand why. No one had every said such things to me. Men never confessed to have an Achilles' heel, especially to me. They showed off what they had or didn't have, and would have been perturbed if I found out they weren't flawless. But Fred's expression was far from being worried.

He continued, "I picked up playing it when Lawrence and I began traveling as minstrels. He's far better at it than I am, but I can pass off being a reasonable minstrel. I can play others, if you'd like, without the hesitations of a contemplating musician."

"I don't want to hear them."

"You do not like music?"

"I see no point in it."

"It is beautiful."

This surprised me. Any other person would not have given such a direct answer. They would say something silly like, it is a talent, or it makes people happy, or it is fun to dance to. But Fred, for some reason, had hit a mark that I could not deny. It was as if he knew my weakness for loving everything beautiful. I was silent for a moment, unable to meet his gaze. But I could find no comeback and almost in resignation I said, "I have yet to hear a song that is truly beautiful."

Fred accepted this and added, "The song you just heard is for Aspen. I fear it won't quite make the image I'm hoping for."

"What image is that?"

"The tinkling of aspen leaves of course. It was the stirring song of the golden leaves that sang to Marta in her first month bearing Aspen that inspired her to name her that." He smiled, as if remembering. "That was a long time ago."

"Then you want this song before her birthday next week?" I asked. I knew the answer; I only wanted to get to the topic I came out here in the first place for.

He seemed pleased that I would know of it. "Aye, that's right."

I suddenly felt silly, telling this man I wanted a silk head band for a child, but I had already made my resolution, and I was not one to give up so easily. "I wish to give her a gift," I declared stoutly.

Fred's eyes were warm and pleased. "Although, I would think, you would consider your very presence a gift enough; I heartily support your plan."

I sent him a disapproving glare. "I want to give her a silk headband from that stall she had been admiring the first day I was here."

Now, he appeared appreciative. "You noticed then. I'm impressed."

My frown remained. "I don't need you to be impressed. I only need the money to buy it. Immediately."

Again, his mood changed to being amused, as he shook his head slightly, as if laughing to himself. With his trademark grin he replied, "Princess, I realize you expect me to hand over the money and wish you luck, but that can not be. Silk is expensive. Although I can supply it, I will not, for if you wish to give it to Aspen, it must be from you, not me."

"But I am the Princess of Luzcando and am therefore quite entitled to any money from peasants."

"This is Durant," he replied simply. "You have no power here."

I flushed as the realization hit me. The selfish brute refused to give me the money, though I thought he'd readily do it for the girl. No. He expected me to pay for it. I could, but . . . I would not use the two rings I had in my possession. For one thing they were family heirlooms, and Father would boil over if he knew I'd given one to a simple Durant merchant for a bit of silk to give to a peasant girl.

But I _had_ to have that headband. Once I was set on an idea I rarely gave it up. And I was determined _nothing_—including that insufferable fool—was going to stop me. Fred appeared to notice my distress because he offered a solution.

"You could work for it." His tone was calm, as if the idea was the most obvious one.

I gaped at him. Was he suggesting that I, Princess of Luzcando, heir to the throne of . . .?

"You've already been doing dishes, sweeping floors and helping with the cooking, I don't see why you can't add a few more chores in."

It was as if everything I thought was placed in black and white before him to read. Was he a mind reader as well? I nearly posed the question to him, but stopped, glaring at him with suspicion and disapproval. He began to laugh. I fumed.

"I'm sorry, milady, but you are so easy to read! Your expressions really are like a book. Has no one ever told you this, before?"

"Of course not," I snapped. "And I don't appreciate _you_ doing so."

He stopped laughing, and appeared to be trying to keep a straight apologetic face, but his lips still twitched. "My apologies. Still my offer to give you a job elsewhere is still open; if you'd like."

"No," I snapped, my good mood was gone. There was no way I was going to accept anything from this . . . man. I gave him one last insulted glare and stomped away back to the house. I think he started chuckling again.

Marta was yawning in the kitchen. I ignored her as she chirped good morning. It _had_ been a good morning until I had to talk to Fred.

"What's wrong, dear?" asked Marta, following me to the stairs.

I hesitated. How would I explain? "That frustrating man just . . . he refused to give me something."

"What?"

I blushed, unwilling to say it. It was suddenly terribly humiliating to admit I was basically begging for money for a bit of silk. Me! The Princess of Luzcando asking a poor peasant for coins. The thought was unbelievable and I stood there, fuming at myself and for Fred for putting me in such a situation. Well . . . perhaps it had been Lord Garrett who had really put me in this situation, but _Fred_ had blackmailed me into staying here.

"Never mind," I replied briskly, and hurried up the stairs. Marta returned to the kitchen, shaking her head. Aspen was just leaving the room. She smiled brightly at me and reached out her arms for a hug.

"Good morning, Ruth!" she cried.

Distracted, I brushed past her into the room. "Go help your mother, and don't bother me." Her face fell, but I closed the door, determined not to see anyone at the moment, even Aspen. I curled up on the bed, stewing everything over. The offer of the job seemed so . . . common. Jobs were what peasants did. Then again, it was my father's _job_ to be king. I knew he worked hard. I was not completely blind to the things around me. I knew he sat for hours in boring meetings to ensure peace and order in the kingdom. I knew he had to command many people to do a thousand random duties. I knew he stayed up late at night to finish a tax report, sign another paper or write another decree. Yet, he was not common.

My mind whirred. To work for the money to me seemed rather ludicrous since I was a princess and did not _need_ to work. But now, I realized I _needed_ to get that silk headband. Well, perhaps not, but I knew I would not be able to sleep peacefully for months if I did not. It was as if the gift to Aspen were essential to . . . something. I didn't know what. I only knew I felt a deep conviction to ensure that gift in any way under my control. But would I be in control if I accepted the job offer from Fred?

I found myself nodding. Of course I would. I would be _earning_ it. It would be _my_ money. No one else's. Not the Royal Treasury's. Not Father's. And not Fred's. A smile crept to my lips as I felt a thrill. The thought of earning the money as my own filled me with . . . independence. Yes, that is what it was. I would be able to look after myself and not have to depend on anyone else, including Fred. Well, I would expect him to find me the job. But that was it.

* * *

I held the small, dirty bucket of feed gingerly between two fingers and stared with wrinkled nose into the pen at all the chickens stalking around, glaring at me with beady little eyes. I felt a growing frustration as I turned back to where Fred and the owner of the little beasts stood, smiling and waiting. I gritted my teeth. Devils, the whole lot of them were.

It was my first day at the job, feeding chickens, and Fred and the owner were watching to make sure I did it all right. The man was willing to let someone else do it because he had a very lame leg and couldn't bend over. I don't know who had been doing it before, but the old man seemed happy that I was in his place.

"You expect me to give them this . . . stuff?"

"Aye, miss," drawled the man. He was older, with the same beady eyes as the wretched birds. "Just toss the feed out to them. They'll eat it."

"They don't have teeth so they can't bite," added Fred. "But watch that rooster; he does own a beak and a sense of pride."

I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought I caught a pointed hint in that. As if pride was something to fear. I glared at him. Cruel man. He had the audacity to pick the filthiest job for me, a princess, and then mocked me while he was at it.

Sighing, and cursing my own stubbornness, I opened the door to the pen and went inside. The birds peered at me hostilely. I glowered back at them, particularly the rooster, who was strutting cautiously around, with a scrutinizing sneer as if sizing me up. The place stunk. I dipped my hand into the coarse feed and awkwardly tossed it to the ground. The chickens forgot their study of me and began pecking at it. Feeling relieved that the beady eyes were no more on me; I emptied the bucket on a closest chicken's head. It shook itself and sent me an insulted scowl. I smiled within.

"That in't how I figured it was done," muttered the man, scratching his head.

"It works doesn't it?" I retorted as I hastily retreated.

He shrugged. "Aye, I suppose so. But you forgot to gather the eggs."

"The eggs?"

"Chickens lay eggs," said Fred in an informative voice.

"I know that!" I snapped.

"I suggest you do it now when the hens are distracted," said the man. I think his name was Marley but I couldn't be sure. "Sometimes they get upset when you go in later."

I gave another exasperated sigh and went in. The rooster examined me closely, as if telling me not to try anything. I ignored him and went to the boxes. Sure enough in each box was at least one egg, sometimes two. I picked them up grudgingly and placed them in the bucket. Some of them were not as clean as others were. One was warm and I tried very hard not to think about where it had just come from. When I finished I made a speedy exit and gave the man the bucket.

"Satisfied," I asked in a tone that said if he wasn't I'd dump the bucket on his head.

"Aye, miss, that I am. I appreciate it."

I didn't mention how much I'd appreciate pay day when it came around.

Fred's grin was encouraging and pleased. As we walked back toward the boarding house which was only a couple houses down he said, "Now, that wasn't too bad was it?"

"Not so bad that I'll quit," I allowed, "But bad enough to complain about it. I need to wash my hands for five minutes now. Also, after seeing the conditions those birds live in I'm never eating chicken again."

He laughed, and I again I was struck that he really found my words amusing. I couldn't help feeling smug despite my bad mood.

"Then I guess you'll be a vegetarian before long. Animals are animals and not meant to be impeccably clean. If they were, God would have taught them to take showers and use soap. Can you imagine a cow or pig running to the river to wash itself?"

The image was funny, I had to admit, and maybe my frown let up a bit. But I couldn't back down. Chickens were still disgusting. "I still won't be able to eat chicken without thinking of that pen, and that won't help me digest it."

"All right," he said. "You can have just the potatoes tonight."

I scowled. "We're having chicken tonight?"

"Aye, and the gravy is made of the same stuff, so . . ."

"Don't say another word," I commanded, holding up a hand. "I'd rather face the challenge when it comes and not dwell on it."

"Very well," he said, still grinning.

And for once I had a mind to smile myself.

After that I didn't mind feeding the chickens as much. Oh, I still loathed it, and absolutely _detested_ the smell and that strutting rooster, but I could tolerate it more. I think working without a critical audience helped me. I started tossing the feed out instead of dumping it on a bird's head. Sometimes Marley watched me from the window and I knew he chuckled whenever I wrinkled my nose as I picked out the eggs from the boxes. One old hen refused to let me near her box and even pecked at me. I didn't try very hard to get her paltry eggs.

I endured it for several days and finally, at last, the time I had been slaving away for came: pay day. I stood impatiently as Marley fumbled around in his room, muttering to himself. At long last he came out with the coins in his hand. Reluctantly I held out my own hand for them, feeling something like a beggar. He placed them in my hand and said, "You done good. I 'pose you'll be comin' 'round?"

I stared blankly at the coins in my hand. Ten, small, rusted pennies. That was it. I wanted to scream. How dare he?!! All that suffering, all that work, and that endurance, all that for _this_? My face pulled into a very very unhappy one.

"This is it?" I shrieked. "Ten measly pennies!!"

"Aye, it's the same I paid—"

"I don't care what you paid the last guy!" I snapped. "I'm absolutely insulted. Do you realize how much effort I put into feeding your stupid birds? Too much. And all I get is _this_?"

He looked confused and cowed. "They're just chickens. They ain't worth much."

"But I threw them their gritty feed! I changed their filthy water! I stomached their disgusting smell! I put up with that obnoxious rooster! I gathered those stupid eggs! I deserve more!"

Marley scratched his head anxiously. "Well, I never thought about it much. The job in't much. However," he added quickly when he saw me open my mouth to protest, "I'll give you twice that much if you sell all the eggs you gathered. I have four dozen eggs that I don't know what to do with. I don't like 'em myself, but someone else might."

I frowned. Twenty pennies? For selling them? I shook my head. "No. I'll get all the profit from them. If you don't want the eggs I'll get rid of them, but _you_ don't get anything from it."

He shrugged; I think he was too afraid to object. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss. But I'll let you do it if you promise to keep taking care of the chickens."

"Give me the eggs," I said. He did. And I left, with the pennies.

I didn't even stop at the boarding house. Fred might've stopped me. I went to the market. I would keep doing chickens just because it was part of the bargain, but I decided there was another way to get the silk headband. Of course there was. I smiled to myself.

It took forever to find the silk stand. Thankfully it wasn't the same one that Aspen had seen; however their selections were no less impressive. Clutching the basket of eggs, I walked purposefully, yet hesitantly to the stall. As I gazed with longing at the bolts, I noticed with satisfaction that the merchant was young, about thirty, and staring at me. I saw the blue I wanted and let my fingers just barely touch it, and then jerked my hand back.

"Oh, I really shouldn't touch," I gasped as if horrified at myself.

"It's all right," said the man quickly.

I smiled gratefully at him, pleased to see his cheeks pink. I felt the cloth; it really was quality silk, and very blue. I was sure it would bring out Aspen's brown eyes. I wouldn't need much, just a wide strip long enough to tie around her head. Perhaps she had a dress that would go with it.

"Do you like it?" asked the man hesitantly.

I beamed at him. "It's superb," I murmured. Then my eyes fell away and I let my hand drop. "Only I haven't enough money to pay for it."

His voice was gentle. "How much do you have?"

Expertly, I let tears reach the rim of my eyes. "Oh, sir, it's an embarrassing amount I'd rather not say. I'd rather just leave the silk where it is. I shouldn't . . . wish for such extravagant things. Only sometimes . . . sometimes I wish I had just a . . . piece, not much."

"It doesn't take much to get a piece," said the man. "How much do you have?"

I held out the pennies. He swallowed.

"I have eggs too," I murmured forlornly. "But what are eggs compared to silk? Ah, me! Methinks it is a sin to wish for such things."

"Never, milady!"

Why did everyone call me milady? Couldn't I pass for a peasant woman? Still, I looked at him shyly and hopefully, but didn't push it. Oh, no, I would not beg.

"Methinks the pennies . . . and eggs would suffice for a piece," he said it painfully but reassuringly.

My face brightened. "Oh, sir are you so sure?"

"Aye, aye I am." He smiled. He grabbed his scissors. "How much?"

"Oh, sir, you are too kind." I beamed at him through my eye lashes. I parted my hands for the desired width. He nodded and snipped away. As he handed it to me, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I had never taken advantage of another with my feminine beauty, and it slightly irked me. It wasn't much silk, but he wasn't getting much for it, either. What could I do to really repay him? Smiling surely wasn't enough. I gave him the basket of eggs and the ten pennies. Before he drew away I put a hand on his shoulder, real gratitude flashing in my eyes.

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

His Adam's apple bobbed. "You're . . . you're very welcome, miss."

I decided not to daze the man further and turned away, tucking the silk safely in my apron pockets. So aprons did have their use after all. As I walked out the market, I felt rather light hearted; at last I had gotten that silk headband. It was as if I'd just accomplished a great task and now a burden was off my shoulders.

"Amazing trick you did back there."

I whirled around, my hand on my heart. Of course it was Fred, hands in pockets, sauntering to my side. For once he was not grinning, however he wasn't scowling either. I gave him a superior glare and turned back. So, he had seen it. I didn't care.

"Thank you," I replied pertly.

"Hopefully his wife won't notice the missing silk and the increase of eggs."

I rolled my eyes. So he had a wife. Was it my fault he was attracted and sympathetic to beautiful girls in distress?

"He was very kind," I said.

Fred seemed surprised. "Are you serious? He was smitten." Was it my imagination, or did I detect a hint of bitterness in that sentence?

"Are you accusing me of something?" I asked pointedly.

"Yes, I am," he replied just as flatly. "You were taking advantage of the man's carnal nature and didn't even leave him with his wits."

"I told him thank you," I said, hoping this would end the conversation. Really, that ought to be enough. Since when did I bestow my thanks on just anyone? That man should consider himself very fortunate indeed, and even his wife should be proud.

Fred was shaking his head. "Every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those present," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because then you will be respected."

I had no reply to this. How could I? I suppose the man was right. All right, so I did feel guilty for flirting with the man, a married man at that. But I most certainly was not about to admit it and beg for forgiveness. The deed was done, and that was that. I sighed within. It was awful having a conscience; it ruined all the fun.

Fred laughed. "Fun, milady? You do not know what fun is."

I looked at him strangely, then realized. I had said that last bit out loud. I was embarrassed, but grateful that he had put off his scolding temper. Strange as it might sound, I preferred his mocking mood to his scolding one.

"Of course I do," I protested. "Fun is when a new arrival from Froc comes. Fun is when one's Father allows one to insult every impudent man in the country, and other countries for that matter. Fun is when the juggler messes up because of something one said. _That_ is fun."

"For a pompous, poor deprived princess, I suppose," said Fred, letting out a sympathetic sigh.

"That wasn't very nice," I told him emphatically, glaring at him, my fury aroused.

"To the pompous, poor deprived princesses I suppose," he said. "But I never said your name, so you needn't get all riled up."

My anger abated quickly. Did he not think of me as a pompous, poor deprived princess? I was about to ask when he went on.

"If you'd like, I'll show you how we peasants have fun."

My frown returned. "If it has _anything_ to do with chickens, I swear I'll wring their necks."

He laughed. Why did he laugh so much? Why did he find things so humorous and happy? "That would be interesting to see," he replied and his eyes sparkled. "However, it does not. It involves Aspen, Peter, Eugene, and Gertie."

I wrinkled my nose. "Who?"

"The neighborhood kids," he clarified. "On my way over here I past them, and they were playing tag. Would you like to join them?"

Tag. That was a game I was sure. I thought it involved running, but couldn't be for sure . . . and perhaps touching someone. Children found it especially fun, and could spend hours with it. Perhaps . . . what was I thinking?! I was not about to run around with a mob of dirty peasant brats and Fred. Heavens forbid.

"See," said Fred, stopping. We were just a house away from the hostel. Aspen and three other children were running around frantically in nonsense circles. I did not see the point to it. Suddenly, Aspen saw us and waved energetically, her brown eyes bright with happiness.

"Come play with us!" she called.

The other children stopped to look at us. I stood, frozen, like a deer unsure whether to flee or continue eating at the sound of the rustle of leaves. Fred glanced at me, the obvious question in his eyes. I felt as if my insides, especially my heart were getting strained and stretched. I truly did not want to go either way. Why must life be so difficult?

I turned away, and saw Fred ran his hand frustratingly through his hair as if he had just let out his breath. As I hurried toward the house I tossed back over my shoulder, "Let me drop off my apron."

My heart warmed and swelled as the children cheered.

* * *

I blew my hair from my face impatiently. Despite my declaration to enlist in their little game I was beginning to see my grave mistake. Once I had returned each dirt streaked child began to tell me how the game was played which only brought disorder, confusion, and annoyance. Finally Fred shushed them all and explained the rules: You don't want to be tagged by the person who is 'it'; if you are, then you are 'it' and you have to touch someone else.

It sounded simple enough, I was sure avoiding 'it' would be easy. I was not a talented runner; however I was confident that I could out run many of the little . . . children. I stood apart as Eugene, at least I think it was Eugene, set his target on Peter. The rest of us were quite safe as Eugene only seemed concerned on getting his buddy. Peter laughed, and dodged him easily, scampering this way and that. I didn't see the humor.

Finally, Eugene made a quick dive and caught Peter on the hem of his shirt. Peter made a disappointed noise and turned back, but Eugene was already tripping away. I was the closest to the boy and his face lit up and he started after me, probably thinking me an easy aim. Oh, dear. I quickly trotted away but Peter trotted faster. I lifted my skirts, thankful they were not as long or heavy as my satin ones back home, and broke into a light run. Peter remained close behind. How could he? I had longer legs than he did, and yet he was gaining and I was loosing my breath as I skirted the edge of the set parameters. The others were quick to dart away, even though Peter seemed intent on his garget. How was this fun again?

I glanced behind me to see Peter stretching out his hand to grab me, a quick rush of exhilarated fear and giddiness made me give a little shriek and dash to the right. Peter missed and stumbled, and I felt relieved as a triumphant smile graced my features. I ran quickly away, leaving Peter to look for a new goal. My relief swelled to pride as I saw Peter examining me with new respect.

"Smoothly done, Princess," called out Fred, while sending Peter a teasing grin.

Peter growled and ran after him. Fred sidestepped him easily at the last second, and laughed. All the children were grinning.

"You can't catch him, Peter!" yelled Aspen jumping up and down lightly on her feet in excitement as she viewed the situation.

Peter didn't reply, but put his head down and wiped his feet on the ground, similar to a bull pawing the earth before a charge. Then letting out a wild scream he attacked. Fred was again ready to evade his rush, but the lad perceived his move, and changed his own course. He crashed into Fred's middle with such force they both toppled to the ground. Eugene, Gertie, and Aspen began to laugh as Peter continued to tackle Fred, yelling, "I got him! I got him!"

Suddenly Eugene had joined the fray and was helping Peter keep Fred down. Goodness! They must have been hurting him, sitting on him like that. But when I stepped closer I saw Fred's face split into a grin as he tried to fend off the playful blows. He managed to sit up, causing Eugene to topple off.

"Dog pile!" shrieked Gertie and she too coalesced into the confusion and Fred went down again. Eugene and regained his stance and had thrown himself on top of Peter and Gertie. It was appalling to watch as these barbarous children wrestled in the dirt with the man, but at the same time I caught myself grinning at the inanity of it all.

Aspen perched herself on top of Eugene and amid the delighted screeches and breathy laughs I could hear Fred calling out for mercy. The children slowly backed off, leaving Fred with breathing space again and he sat up, the grin still on his face. They all stood there, panting and grinning at each other.

Fred wiped a tear from his eye and declared, "Whew. You kids sure know how to bring a man down."

Peter stuck his chest out with pride, and it reminded me so much of that rooster I nearly laughed out loud. Aspen giggled. Fred, still grinning, glanced at me, and I quickly took the smile off my face. I would not let him think I thought that was fun.

Folding my arms across my chest I said, "That wasn't fun."

"I thought it was. Perhaps if we tackled you it would be," he said, with eyes glinting and grin tipped crookedly.

I gasped. How dare that audacious scoundrel suggest such an atrocious idea? I sent him a horrified glare and marched away, deciding it wasn't even worth answering. Of course he thought my reaction humoring, but did not follow. I suppose he _liked_ rolling in the dirt with the children.


	14. From one Job to Another

**Hey, ya'll! Long time no see (not your fault of course). I'm in college but have actually found time to update! So special thanks to** orangehotchocolate** (that sounds sooo good right now!) who was insistent enough to remind me that I had a story to update!**

**Also, thank you to** Thai Libre**,** Pimpernell Princess**,** Lady Moonglow**,** sumrandom girl XD**, **daring2dream**, **bellathedisenchanted**, **falchion**,** x- Lakota -x**, and **raykoRavenclaw** for reviewing! I hope ya'll haven't given hope up yet. I really do want to finish this story to the bitter end! Not that the end will be bitter....:)**

**Happy reading!**

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**Chapter 14: One Job to Another**

I kept my promise to Marley and fed those miserable birds, even though I didn't even need the money. I considered quitting after he gave me another unsatisfactory pay of ten pennies, but kept putting the thought off. I had grown accustomed to leaving the house in the mornings and evenings to gather eggs and throw feed. I had to go armed because the rooster grew hostile daily and even went so far as to trot up to me, as if he wanted to peck at me. I was so startled I only managed to swing the bucket at him. After that I always entered with a stick and made sure he knew I was quite capable of clobbering him.

Finally, on the morn before Aspen's birthday, my dam of patience broke. Fred said he needed to talk to Marley so I graciously allowed him to walk with me, even though I _knew_ he wanted to see how I was getting along with the fowls. I actually wanted him to see that I was very proficient in making sure the birds, however disgusting, were surviving. Why, I wanted this I couldn't say for sure. Perhaps a part of me wanted to demonstrate that I could work, and that I could work well. Also, I had a notion that Fred thought I was a frail good for nothing princess who couldn't do much. I wanted to prove him wrong.

Marley was sitting on his porch, so while I ducked into the pen with my weapon, Fred watched out of the corner of my eye. This morning, the rooster decided the stick was of no consequence and flew at me, wings flapping. I skillfully brought the rod down on his head. He backed off, but only to come at me again. Nasty brute! I hit him harder.

He retreated. I threw the grain, hoping it would distract his attention like other days. But he stood, regarding me maliciously. I decided he was just pouting about his defeat and turned to go into the house. But the vicious bird jumped up again. I couldn't help giving a little shriek as I whirled around to whack him.

"Back you hateful thing!" I cried. My fury mounted when I heard chuckling. They were _both_ chuckling! The heartless men were _laughing_ at my predicament! I turned toward them. "Curse you! How would _you_ like—"

"Ruth, the—!"

I screamed again. The rooster had managed to clamp his wicked beak onto the back of my skirt while my anger had been directed elsewhere. His wings flapped hard, and I swore I felt his claws on the back of my legs. I spun around so fast, the beast flew into the fencing of the pen. But that didn't shake it off, and I resorted to bashing the monster in an awkward position. I finally gave him a hard enough blow that made him stagger away again. I was so furious I nearly felt tears well up, but thankfully tears do not accompany my livid moods.

Fred was at the door, concern was in his eyes, but the smile from his laughter was still on his wretched face.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Are you blind?" I barked. "The wicked brute has surely drawn blood!" I wanted to kick the bird for good measure, but he was stalking away, triumphant and smirking.

"I'll get the eggs," offered Fred, and reached for the bucket.

I didn't give it to him. "If _you_ hadn't been laughing I could have stopped him before he so uncouthly struck! You most certainly will get the eggs, and I swear their miserable master will have to find someone else to get them from now on."

I shoved the pail into his hands and marched out the door. Fred forgot about the eggs and hurried after me.

"Ah, come on, princess—"

"I quit," I told Marley.

He was too busy trying to retain a straight face to be surprised.

I continued toward the road while Fred trotted by my side. "You can't let one little incident like that deter you from—"

I swung on him. "That was _not_ one little incident. That was an attempt on my life!"

He pulled in his chin. "That? Oh, come on, you don't really think that old bird could have killed you, do you?"

"That was certainly his intention and it can certainly be classified as such. If this was Luzcando, I'd have him throttled _immediately_."

"Marley will probably put him in the stew pot now, since there's a new younger rooster."

"He doesn't deserve to be eaten," I snapped and continued tramping down the road. Fred still tried to soothe me, but I would have none of it. I was glad the boarding house was so near, but annoyed that Fred was nearer and still persistent.

"At least let me see if he drew blood," he said as I pushed into the house. I hesitated. My initial boiling rage and cooled to a sizzling point, and I decided to look at the damage. I sat down on a chair and drew up my skirt to examine my calves. Madam Catalin would have been shocked at the lack of decorum, but I didn't care.

The sizzling dropped to simmering.

"There, that isn't so bad." Fred's voice was cheerful and comforting. "But if it'll make you feel any better, I'll put something on it." There were only scratches, which had hardly scraped off the skin. There was a crease in the skirt, but other than that, no harm done. I gritted my teeth.

"I'm still not going back. I was planning to quit anyway. I don't need to work anymore. I don't need the money."

His caring doctor facade was instantly dropped. "You still have to pay off that silk," he murmured, since Aspen was just upstairs. "It cost much more than ten pennies and those eggs."

"So!" I huffed. "The man _gave _it to me. I need not give him more."

But he folded his arms and actually had the nerve to glare at me. I was surprised. Fred never glared at anyone, _especially _me. Why was this so important to him? I had given the man nearly all I owned in this measly town _and _my own special thanks and _sincere_ smile. That was enough.

"I thought you were feeling guilty for what you did to him," said Fred, in a suspicious tone, his glare not lessening.

I almost squirmed. "That was at the moment. I decided my guilt had no basis, and dismissed it. _I_ did nothing wrong."

"You deceived him," he retorted pointedly.

I stiffened. That was true, but I could not relent myself to his argument. I _would _not! Pursing my lips and giving him a glower of my own, I hissed, "I will _not _go back and repay him. I absolutely _refuse _to do so."

We stared defiantly at one another for a moment before his expression relaxed and he gave a shrug as if it were no big deal. Good; he was giving up. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, and triumph, when he said, "You do not have to go back, but the money must be paid. I will give it to him, if you prefer anonymity."

I let out a growl of exasperation. "Why are you so intent on this? It is just a bit of silk obtained from a little flirtation, a little tear, and some _well_ earned eggs."

He smiled, and looked like an understanding father trying to teach his child some life principle. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had patted my cheek reassuringly. "I know it doesn't seem like much, but I feel very sorry for the merchant. Although he _did_ get a smile from you, which is a blessing enough, his life depends on the income he receives from selling his silk sensibly. He is not the owner of the shop so he gets very little from the grand total. His wife is with child, and he needs all the money he can get. If we were to cheat him of just a little bit of it, it would not be fair to him. I might've let it go if it was just the money, but you did this when he was in a befuddled state. That was hardly reasonable. Once he regained his wits, I'm sure he regretted succumbing to your feminine charms."

I stared at him in mild disbelief and confusion. Was it my imagination, or did he sprinkle a couple of compliments in there? Did he truly think my smile to be a blessing? I detected no sarcasm, but it was so unlike Fred to say such things to me that I nearly disregarded it. I suddenly frowned. I would not be drawn into his trap. He was still trying to make me feel guilty, and _I_ would not yield.

"So?" I asked with a disdain shrug. "What is it to me?"

Fred stared at me in true puzzlement and incredulity. He let out a groan of frustration and again ran his hand through his hair as if he were at a loss. "You really don't get it, do you?" he asked exasperatingly.

I rolled my eyes, pleased with myself. I did not feel guilt, only triumph. "There is nothing to "get", Sir Fred. Your explanations have only convinced me that that simple merchant is an immense fool. If I do feel sorry, I feel sorry for his unborn child and his future. I'm not the only manipulating female out there. He's going to have to learn to keep his wits."

As soon as the words left my lips I somehow felt dirty. Was that what I was? A manipulating female? That certainly didn't paint a pretty picture, but . . . I _suppose_ it could be used to describe me. I frowned. I didn't like it.

Fred raised a brow in surprise. "You consider yourself to be a manipulating female?" He nodded slowly. "That's a good way to describe it."

I flushed angrily. "We are not having this conversation!" I snapped as I jumped to my feet. I turned to go, but suddenly Jess' voice called me back. I hesitated. I hadn't realized he had been listening the whole time. He stood, his figure filling the door frame.

"Ruth," he called; his smile mischievous and excited. I immediately grew suspicious. What was he up to? I had learned that Lawrence's father was just a big boy who loved to come up with schemes to either get more money, or tease others. I had become his particular object, and he never ceased to compliment, tease, mock, or joke with me. At first I was furious when he commented on my small hands, but his laugh was so contagious, that I realized he was only teasing. I learned to ignore his jibes or simply retort back.

"You have a sharp tongue," he said, and it wasn't a reprimand. He was the only one, besides Fred, who seemed to appreciate my words. Marta dismissed them like flies, Gwen ignored them, and I was careful not to snap too much around Aspen.

He continued. "I think I could use your skills of arguing. Why don't you come to work with me?"

My brows furrowed. "Eh? You want me to _work_ for you?" I knew Jess had taken time to work at a pottery stand Lawrence had started. The business was on the verge of failing since the owner was coughing up blood upstairs, so Jess had stepped in and revived it. He was gone all day, and usually came home complaining about picky costumers and hot suns.

"Aye, that's right." He nudged Fred in the arm and told him, "She could bring in a lot of costumers with her pretty face and convincing words."

Fred rolled his eyes. "You want to _use_ her?"

I frowned. I didn't like that.

"No, I want her to help me. Come, now Fred. You've got to think of what will bring in the most income, and I say _she_ will. Just look at her!" He waved a hand in my direction with an excited grin. "Who can refuse her? With her by my side I can sell all of Lawrence's pottery in a week! I might even be able to raise the prices."

Fred and I both looked dubious. I was actually surprised. I would think Fred would be the first to agree that I should be put to work. He was probably hesitating because I'd be _manipulating_ people again. I frowned. Would I be though? _If_ I did go with Jess to help him—I was not saying I would—would just sitting there being pretty be using people? No, not really. It would be as if I were a colorful sign to attract people's attention. I did not like that idea. Apparently Fred didn't either because he shook his head firmly.

"She isn't a tool, Jess," he said.

I nearly cocked my head in surprise. Was he trying to be nice? Well, it was Fred...

Jess disagreed. "I know. She's a help. You wouldn't be unhappy if I took Aspen with me. She's a cute girl, and I have taken her on occasion, but she has work here. Ruth has spare time on her hands, she could _help_." He suddenly became teasing. "I know you want to keep her for yourself, Fred, but you've got to share the princess."

Again I was taken aback when Fred's cheeks actually tinted pink. Fred _never_ blushed. This moment was too priceless; I wanted to laugh. But I still didn't like the idea of "helping" Jess. I still thought I was being used. Humph. Was this what the merchant felt after I left, that he had been used? I couldn't think about that. I had decided I wouldn't feel guilty!

Fred glanced at me then threw up his hands in exasperation, "Fine! Have it your way." He seemed very perturbed as he stalked out of the room. I almost felt sorry for him, but I was too smug over the fact that he had blushed, _and_ lost an argument.

Jess' grin was wide and victorious as he faced me. I met it with a stubborn stance, and accusing gaze. "I am not Fred's ward," I told him coldly. "I do not see why you must ask _him_ whether I can work or not. _I_ decide that."

I saw Fred linger near the doorway, obviously curious to my answer. Jess laughed. I didn't appreciate that. I wanted to be taken seriously.

"You fiery lass!" he chuckled. "You must be _the_ most independent maiden I've ever met. You'd insist on slaying your own dragons if need be. But you contradict yourself sometimes. You wish others to do everything for you, yet have an intense stand on making your own decisions and own way." He shook his head as if in wonder.

I didn't know whether to take this as a compliment or insult. I was not finicky, but I liked being independent. Yes, I didn't want to depend on others, especially when it came to my future.

"But I wonder," continued Jess as if forgetting about my working with him, "Do you feel the need to have others depend on you?"

I pulled my chin in from surprise. "What? No. I think not. Let others take care of themselves. I care not for them."

Jess nodded in understanding as if he were expecting that answer. "Aye, I see. Well! I will try to make this opportunity seem like an advantage to you. For one thing, your hands will be busy, and I know how much you dislike laziness. You will be paid, so that makes you even more independent. I don't know what you would want with money, but it's usually nice to have. And thirdly, you will not have to stand the presence of this annoying odd man."

"Hey!" growled Fred, his scowl visible.

I actually smiled. "Well, when you put it _that_ way, I can't think of an excuse. Very well; I will assist you."

Jess swept into a bow. "I thank thee, milady."

"On one condition," I added. "Do not call me milady or any other form of nobility. I do not want others to know I have debased myself to be working along side a menial laborer selling pottery."

* * *

"Why is Fred mad?" I asked Jess as I gripped the edges of the cart. He had insisted we start at once and we set off for the market place with the cartload of pottery.

Jess kept his eyes on the team of horses as he guided them toward the middle of the town. "Fred feels a great responsibility over you," he replied. "The way I understand, your father placed you under his protection, and he is determined to keep you safe."

"And what danger would I encounter at the market place?"

Jess grinned. "Why other men of course."

I blushed hotly and pursed my lips.

"Fred knows what your beauty can get you into, and he doesn't like taking chances like that. I know you don't realize it, but Fred has fended off more than one interested gentleman. And I purposefully used the understatement of 'interested.'"

I remembered our trip to the market place and how Fred had glared at all those men who had dared to even look at me. At the time I had felt both indignation and amusement, but later had thought nothing of it. I squinted my eyes at Jess to see what I could get out of his face. But his expression was furrowed patience as he guided the horses through the thick crowd of people lumbering to the market that day.

Finally I asked, "Why does he even care?"

Jess seemed surprised that I would ask such a question. "Milady . . . er . . . my dear Miss Ruth, you must know that Fred is a man of honor. He would never allow harm to befall any female no matter their rank, age, or situation."

"Humph," I replied, frowning. I highly doubted that as I recalled his happy grin at seeing me in that loathsome hen house.

"Would you rather he didn't care?" wondered Jess, that teasing light starting to break forth in his eyes.

"I would rather you didn't ask," I snapped. Still, I reflected my response in my head. Truth be told, I did not have one. Why was this happening more and more often? I used to _always_ be able to come up with answers to any question, particularly about my feelings. But not anymore. I scowled to myself trying to think of a suitable answer.

Did I want Fred not to care? No, I did not. Garret was a man who did not care, hence he stole me away. Fred had not kidnapped me, but he had blackmailed me which was just as bad. But he did not keep me in a dirty tent and propose to me every five minutes. As much as I abhorred to admit, the fool kept very good care of me, despite his obnoxious teasing and his determination to make me labor.

"Would you like to help me set out the pottery?" asked Jess and I realized he had stopped the cart between two other stalls.

I raised my brow at him in incredulity. Was he really so stupid as to think that I'd use my hands and bend my back to lay out bowls and plates? I answered him disdainfully, "I will do no such thing."

"Begging your pardon, miss," replied Jess, "But I ask you to reconsider." I didn't like the smile on his face; it said he had the upper hand. "People will wonder at you if you sit up there like a mighty lady of some sort. They'll begin to suspect that you are not of common blood no matter how fervently I call you 'miss.'"

I flushed. I absolutely _hated _it when these peasants had a point which couldn't be denied. Grudgingly I slipped down from the wagon and made my way over to the end of the cart. Jess gave me an encouraging grin and handed me a large, scratchy blanket.

"Lay it out over by the street's edge."

Keeping my expression revolted and my actions slow, I did as he requested. The market was bustling, but had not reached its frenzied pitch, yet. I knew that by the afternoon I'd have a headache from all the noise of complaining costumers, persuading merchants, wandering artisans, and mischievous children. Why was I here again?

Instead of going back to the cart to carry armloads of the product, I sat on the blanket and stared into the small sea of people as they mingled carelessly. They were in no hurry, and the businessmen were only slightly persistent. Brinak, the town, was larger than I had first suspected, and, because of its location near the border, often attracted many strange travelers and merchants. I recognized many who could easily be Luzcandian, and even guessed the jewelry seller was of Froc.

We are not much different, the countries of Froc, Durant, and Luzcando, but we do have certain characteristics that can set us apart. Those of Froc are generally petite, almost elfish, and each skilled in some artisans trade that make them very rich as they sell their wares all over the world. They generally have darker complexions, with curled eyes, and straight silky hair. They are neither beautiful nor hideous, but a true blooded one is always a curious sight.

We Luzcandians are somewhat similar to them, with our slender small statures, olive skin and dark hair. However, we are far more beautiful with thick curls, brilliant eye colors, and graceful movements. We also tend to have quicker tempers than the docile Frocs, which doesn't allow patience in advanced artwork. Of course I exhibited all the qualities of a true Luzcandian being a pure blood.

Those of Durant were a mixture of every kind of person in the world. They had no set standard of appearance, and it was common to see red heads, brunettes, dwarves, giants, fats, slims, talented, dumb, beautiful, and ugly among the mass. The only way to guess was their accent which was predisposed to bring out the words in a sort of drawl that reflected a lazy or easy going type of person. Of course in all these cases of Frocs, Luzcandians, and Durans I meant only the majority, since there are always exceptions.

Jess shook me out of my reverie when he nudged me and said, "You can't sit there like a statue. You've got to smile and wave your arms about declaring how wonderful this pottery is."

I threw him a contemptuous glance. "I will do no such thing."

He sighed heavily. "I thought so. At least stand up and smile. You have to smile."

"I don't have to smile."

"Now, now, missie you don't need to be so stubborn. You look far more beautiful when you smile."

"There's nothing to smile about."

"Crikies, princess, ain't you ever smiled just for the heck of it? Just 'cause life is good?"

I only had to think briefly. "No. And currently life _isn't_ good."

"Well sure it is. Just think. You could still be in the clutches of that Lord Garrett fellow who stole you away. You could be married to him. Or you could be walking around doing nothing. But now, now you're safe among friends and about to do something you've never done before and get paid for it. That's pretty good. You're safe and the weather is nice, why shouldn't life be good?"

I could think of a lot of ways to retort, but surprisingly decided not to. What good would it do any way? These peasants wouldn't understand. They were too optimistic. Grudgingly I gave him a half hearted smile.

"Uh . . . you'll have to work on that one, prin—"

"Jess!"

"Pretty miss," he corrected himself quickly. "Now you are a poor country lass working here to gain some meager earnings to take home to your suffering family."

"I thought we wouldn't lie."

"Right."

"I'm a visitor from Luzcando come to help you in this enterprise for our sick friend."

Jess grinned broadly. "Fine! Fine! Well done. I'm so glad to see that you have become friends with my son." His brows waggled knowingly. I stared at him stoically. Surely he was not implying . . . "But I have to warn you, Gwen already has dibs on him. But if you really—"

I actually whacked him on the arm. "Jess!" I squawked.

He pretended to cower under my strike as he laughed uproariously. I had smile partly in relief that it was just a joke, and partly because one could hardly frown when Jess was laughing.

"Excuse me."

We both looked up promptly into the smiling face of an old woman. She was bent over with age, but her eyes were alight and her smile brighter. She had a basket on her arm and was looking at me with her clear blue eyes.

"You remind me of when I was younger," she crooned to me. "You seem too pretty to be working here. You ought to be in a splendid castle as a princess."

I gave Jess an I-told-you-I-look-too-royal-for-this-filthy-job look, but he didn't seem to notice. Placing a fatherly like hand on my shoulder he declared, "She is beautiful, madam. But she has a heart of gold and helps my old bones to sell this pottery and take the meager funds home to a sick friend."

"Oh, you are such a dear."

I was afraid she would pinch my cheeks or something so I backed up a step and gave her my attempt at a smile. Jess looked like he wanted me to say something so I said, "Yes, though I dream of castles and silk, I work here to help my sick...friend."

As if Lawrence was a friend.

The old woman fussed over me again and bought pottery. Jess was as joyful as a lark. I'd like to go into detail with every customer that came our way, but I can not. I do not remember them. I only know the inner feelings I wrestled with throughout the rest of the day. Yes, I _wrestled_ for several hours as each individual came up. My natural impulse was to toss my head and scorn their even idea of considering they could converse with me. But the fact I was supposed to be a peasant girl _made _me smile, answer questions and accept all compliments and comments. It was a strange and awful feeling. Sometimes I nearly blew up and threw a dish at an exceptionally obnoxious costumer or slapped a sickening flirtatious smile off another absurd potential buyer.

But I didn't. I was both pleased with myself and horrified. What was happening to me? _Why_ didn't I? Why did I not desire to create a scene and make sure my desires and personal space was respected? I wasn't completely tolerant. Oh, no. I didn't wave my hands around and was usually sitting down, despite Jess' request. When several men tried to lean in for an attempted opportunity I immediately dropped the friendly seller façade and scowled so fiercely they quickly got the message and backed away. Jess didn't object. I was also able to insert subtle slights to the ruder house wives which, when caught, were not well received and we hopefully would never see them again.

We were one of the last to leave the square and I absolutely refused to assist in piling everything back in. I was so exhausted I wanted to sleep. I wanted to curl up in a remote, obscure corner and fall into a sleep where nothing could penetrate my mind but meaningless dreams and darkness. I sat in the wagon and tried very hard not to think. When Jess climbed up next to me he was smiling broadly, but he was always smiling broadly so this didn't tell me anything.

"You done good, Princess," he exclaimed.

"I've done _well_," I corrected.

"Right. You done well."

I shook my head and mentally gave up. I really was tired. I faced the road, not really seeing it and let my brain go blank. Thankfully my mind remained clear for the rest of trip. Even when we reached home and a pacing Fred assaulted us with questions, I did not answer in any way. Jess just laughed and talked about future profit and success. Fred looked at me, wanting to know what I thought. I went to bed. I think Jess and Fred argued into the night.


	15. Breakfast in Bed

**Yes, this is an update, and yes I should be studying. *sigh* Ach college!! Well, I typed this out in a couple of hours and figured I'd throw it out there without being touched by a beta or anything! Awful, isn't it? So, you can point out typos and mistakes a I'll appreciate them...that is IF you remember what the story is even about...:)**

**Chapter 15: Flowers for a Princess**

In the castle I was always treated with special care. Doors were opened for me, drinks were there when I needed them, and the word "chore" was not in my vocabulary. So when my birthday came around the only difference between it and other days was that, besides the absence of the governess, I received a generous pile of presents (including the gowns from Froc) and everyone sang out "Happy Birthday" when they saw me, whether they meant it or not. Not so in the home of Jess and Marta.

It started with a noisy mayhem that immediately put me in a grumpy mood and a slight head ache. Since I slept in the bed right next to the birthday girl I was rudely awakened when the whole clan, excluding the other boarders burst into the room with enthusiastic cries of, "Happy Birthday, Aspen!!"

Marta held a platter filled with sugary tarts, crisp bacon, thick slices of buttered bread, and a cup of fresh milk. Gwen had armfuls of bounteous flowers and Jess held her favorite kitten, both of which were dumped beside Aspen. Fred was puffing on his wretched pipe which made my head throb even more. Minnie was clapping her hands and singing louder than the others, just to spite me, I'm sure of it. None of them took notice to me as I sat up with a glare. I was too tired to retort, and knew if I tried speaking I might be incoherent, so I simply watched.

"Oh! Oh!" squealed Aspen, who was wide awake and trying to bounce out of bed. She could think of nothing to say but a delighted, "Oh!" She settled back down as Marta balanced the platter on her lap with delicate ease and sat down next to her.

"Careful, child," chuckled Marta. "Focus and eat your breakfast."

"Tarts!" Aspen finally found words as her eyes grew even larger. "Are they strawberry? Are they blueberry? Oh, Mama what kind are they?"

"You'll have to eat 'em and find out," counseled her oh-so-wise father. "It'll be a surprise with each one."

Ever obedient, the girl bit into one of the flaky pastries. Her eyes lit up like the fireworks the Frocs set off at my Aunt's marriage years ago. With sugar falling from the corners of her mouth she declared, "Peaches!! Where did you get peaches? I love peaches! Where did you get peaches?"

"Fred traveled far into the night and had to barter a great deal to get them," exclaimed Minnie with a wave of her arms. I rolled my eyes and let out a silent snort of scorn. What a ridiculous story. Even I could have come up with a better tale than that, and it would certainly not include the fool.

Aspen didn't seem to care. "Thank you so much!" she squealed again and I winced.

"Once you're finished with them, we've got more down stairs," offered Fred.

Marta had different ideas, however. She turned a stern eye on Fred and wagged a finger at him. "We're saving those for later." She turned her attention back to Aspen, beaming with love as she stroked the top of her head. "Once you are finished with breakfast and when you are ready we will open presents. Everyone got you something." She stood up. "Now I better go take care of those tarts before someone _else_ does." She gave Fred another warning glare.

Fred watched her leave with a silly smile, but I suspected there was more than just submissiveness in that sheepish smirk. He was up to something. As he turned back toward Aspen he caught me looking and his eyes sparkled in acknowledgement even amusement. That was it. Nothing else. I had expected him to at least say, "Good morning," as well as something smart. However he had turned all of his attention to Aspen who was happily munching on the bacon, having finished the first tart.

I realized I was still in my night clothes. Normally I would be in a properly sleeved gown, but I did not have such luxuries here. Actually, the ventilation in this hut was nothing compared to the castle so the summer heat did not make for comfortable nights. In order to fix this I had simply taken off my top dress. My face flushed as I realized I was far from being proper. However it wasn't my fault! _They_ were the ones who barged in completely uninvited, giving no thought to the fact it was a young ladies room.

Another thought struck home as I gathered the blanket around me and glared even more resentfully at the party animals. If any other man I had associated with had barged into such a situation, he would not have paid me a simple passing glance. Heavens knows they would have taken in their fill of the sight. I blushed and scolded myself for thinking such unseemly thoughts. However, a part of me thankfully acknowledged that Fred was not any other man.

"Aren't you going to eat?" asked Aspen suddenly, looking up with expectant eyes at her guests who were had slipped into a content state of merely watching the girl eat. They glanced at each other wondering who will answer the simple question.

"By golly, that does sound good!" declared Jess with a laugh.

"Yes, I suppose we should leave so the princess and Aspen can get dressed," added Minnie. I met her gaze full on and wished I could spit out fire as she smirked at my condition. Thankfully, however, the comment did send Jess into an actual nervous stage as he realized what he and the rest of the motley crew had done.

"Ah, yes," he agreed, avoiding my steel eyes. "Let us to the table." He gave Aspen a quick peck on the forehead and strode from the room. They all wished her happy birthday once more before leaving.

Before Gwen left she turned to me and whispered, "Thank-you for not minding."

That was all she said, but I knew the hidden message beneath that smile and simple thanks. She really meant, "Thank you for not going crazy at our entrance and making a big deal over the fact we had just barged into your sleep. Your dramatic fit would have ruined the whole surprise and joy of the occasion." I sighed. Honestly I was too tired to even care.

"Wasn't that amazing?" beamed Aspen, allowing the kitten to lick her fingers free of butter and bread crumbs. "Every year they do something different and amazing, but they've never given me breakfast in bed before. You must try one of the tarts, they are really yummy!"

"I will," I promised. I smiled lightly. It was Aspen's birthday, and although it had not started out ideally for me, it would be a glorious day. I would make sure of that.

The night before, at Aspen's request, Gwen and Minnie had wrapped her dark blonde locks up in rags with the expectation of curls. Since the ladies had left she asked if I would help her undo them. I had had the same treatment done to me, but I had never been required to remove them myself. With a little prodding around and experiments on the bottom knots, I was able to figure out the trick. As each strip of rag was untied a bouncy curl took its place. Aspen grew more excited with each one. When her head was completely free of knotted rags she dipped her head trying to see the finished product.

"Is it pretty?" she asked, brows creased.

"It's gorgeous," I answered, and we both smiled.

She slipped into her simple blue Sabbath dress, and my smile grew as I noticed the color was nearly as vibrant as the silk. Before she could leave the room, I quickly decided now would be the opportune time to present the well earned gift.

"I think I have something that will compliment your outfit perfectly," I said casually.

"A present?" she wondered.

"Yes, a present."

"Oh! You get to be the first!"

I was about to smile in agreement but stopped myself. Shaking my head I replied, "No, your family already gave you a lovely surprise present. I think having breakfast in bed was your first gift of the day."

She waited expectantly as I retrieved the silk from its hiding place. Her brown eyes rounded in amazement as I placed it in her hands. Her mouth opened, but no words came out as she touched the fabric unbelievingly. She brought it up to her cheek and turned her eyes to me, eyes filled with wonder.

"Is it for me? Is it for real?"

I gave a little laugh, but something got caught in my throat so I just had to nod. Goodness, were those _tears_ coming to my eyes? I swallowed hard and managed to say, "Yes, it's your own bit of Froc silk. Shall I put in your hair?"

She nodded and I was pleased to find that it fit perfectly amid her newly done curls. It also brought out the intense brown of her eyes as I had predicted which really gave her look of an angel of innocence.

Everyone ooed and awed appropriately when she descended the creaky wooden stairway. I watched from the upper banister remembering the countless times I had grandly descended down marble steps with the eyes of everyone fixed on me. The feeling had been amazing, and the admiration evident in everyone's gazes. However, I noticed a distinct difference between my entrances and Aspen's arrival. There was admiration, but there was also love. The guests at my assemblies had been in awe but it had seemed as if a veil was pulled across their eyes so that they could not see clearly. They were only dazzled to blindness.

Fred, Jess, Marta, Gwen, Minnie and even the boarders saw exactly who Aspen was. The same sparkle of love and pride would be just as bright if the girl had come dressed in rags and a deformity. They saw beyond the blue and curls. They saw the pure soul within and joyful spirit made manifest within her eyes. They saw it and loved it. I had made entrances, a figure of grace and beauty. Aspen had arrived with the blissful liveliness that attended her.

"Ruth!" Marta's call shook me from my reverie and I saw her waving welcoming arms. "Come eat! I saved a tart or two for you before that rascally Fred could get to them. Come eat while the bacon is hot."

As I sat to eat Aspen was placed on a stool as everyone gathered around, holding their individual gifts for her. Her eyes lighted up with each new one, and there was nothing that could dim her smile. She laughed at the toy Jess gave her, which flipped like a mouse trap but never quite caught the fingers. The hand stitched doll Minnie presented was immediately coddled and named. Gwen had woven a delicate lace shawl that would be her first, and also the first sign that she was becoming a little lady. Marta, ever motherly, wrapped a warm scrap quilt around her that was intricately embroidered with stars and flowers. Lastly, Aspen sat, enthralled, as Fred played her the song he had so patiently composed in his spare time.

She clapped enthusiastically and made him play it again, and again. Before the lilting tune could be fully engrained into our minds Marta diverted the girl's attention.

"Now, Aspen. Now that you have seen all your presents you may decide what happens for the rest of the day! There are dishes to do…."

"Friends to play with," added Jess. "I'm sure Eugene and the others would love to see your toy."

"You can always go down by the river and pick more flowers," suggested Gwen.

"You can always listen to me all day," asserted Fred, puffing out his cheeks to make her giggle.

"Or," declared Marta, subtly pushing Fred out of the way, "You can help me make your cake."

"Cake!" exclaimed Aspen. "Let's make cake!"

"Let's get started then." Marta beamed with pleasure since her idea had triumphed over all the others. She turned to the others and declared, "Well, the rest of you can go do whatever. Aspen and I will make the cake."

"Are you sure you don't want…"

"Jess!"

"Daddy, don't you want cake?" Aspen's logical reply brought smiles all around and after more happy birthdays and a few hugs and kisses they left the kitchen.

I was just finishing my last tart when Marta turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, Ruth dear, but that includes you too. It's tradition that only two are allowed in the kitchen when creating the birthday cake. After all, too many cooks spoil the broth!"

"But this isn't broth," protested Aspen.

"Well, they spoil the cake too."

"I suppose I'll be going to work with Jess anyway," I sighed. I was not looking forward to another day in the market place.

"Oh, no dear. Today is a holiday. There is no work!" I blinked, astounded. Surely this hardworking family would not take a whole day off simply to celebrate the girl's day of birth? I knew they loved her, but even this seemed a bit extreme for them when they tried so hard to make ends meet. Marta understood my confusion and explained quickly, "It just so happened that Aspen's birthday fell on a Durant holiday. It is the Day of Flowers. Fitting, isn't it? You'll find most of the townspeople picking flowers or caring for their gardens. It's a new tradition to present the one you love the most with a special bouquet. So, go out and have fun!"

Well! I had to admit, Durant had an excellent tradition. A day set aside for the true beauties of the land. I smiled at the thought. I wondered what it would take to get Luzcando to adopt such a holiday. After congratulating Aspen I hurried to the door. As chance would have it, I stepped right into Fred.

Since my mood was far from black I responded with a simple gasp as I quickly stepped away. Fred surprised me however when he grasped my arm firmly yet gently. Without looking at me he addressed Marta and Aspen.

"Are you using Ruth?" he inquired.

They shook their heads. "No, you can have her."

I opened my mouth in protest as Fred pulled me down the back steps toward the woodpile. I did not follow him so willingly, and continually tried, if half heartedly, to dig my heels into the wood chips. "I am not a thing to be used!" I declared.

"You take things too literally _and_ pessimistically," he replied, his grip on my arm had not lessened which prevented me from fully halting. "Have you ever thought that it might be _flattering _that we wish to employ you? Would you rather we demand your presence or your services? Being useful is actually a good thing."

I did not have a reply and could not think of one. Instead I changed the topic, "Where are you taking me? What are we doing? Are we picking flowers for Aspen? Didn't she have enough?"

"Since when have you become so inquisitive?" Fred glanced down at me, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Since you dragged me from the kitchen without a single explanation, of course," I replied. "Did you think I'd come without question and no resistance?"

He sighed, stopped, and faced me. I stepped back a bit, not liking the twisting feeling his proximity gave me. "Gwen is upstairs with Lawrence. Normally on the Day of the Flowers he gives her a bunch of flowers. Naturally he cannot do so. Therefore I figured it would be a good idea to get her a bunch so she still gets a bouquet this year. Minnie is busy helping a friend gather for someone else, so I thought you'd like to, since you seem to get along with Gwen."

I blinked. He was going to give Gwen flowers because Lawrence couldn't? I knew men often showered ladies of their choice with posies, having been on the receiving end _many_ times, but Gwen was not Fred's lady of choice. She was Lawrence's. I had never thought a man would waste his time and effort on _another_ man's girl. It seemed ludicrous. Was Fred really so considerate towards others that he would go out of the way for a girl he had no romantic feelings for?

Another thought emerged and I quickly abandoned the first for the new one. _Minnie_ was busy, so he turned to me. A frown took over my features and took this opportunity to fold my arms across my chest, causing him to let go of my arm.

"So I was your _second_ option because Minnie was busy."

He glanced around; face slightly confused as if he thought I had just asked him a trick question. "Yes…"

"So I was simply plan _B_?"

His face lighted with understanding, but to my horror a smile brightened along with it. Uh, oh. A smile meant _he_ had thought of something that would either embarrass me or bring him the upper hand; most likely both.

"Ah, princess, you don't want to be plan B in my mind? Would you like to dominate my thoughts as number one? At first I thought you desired that I not think of you at all, except to do as you saw fit. Now I understand that you desire that you be my first choice." He nodded sagely, his smirk triumphant and teasing.

"I did not say that!" I protested, but it did not stop the flush that rushed to my cheeks. "I only find it demeaning that I am… am…"

"Second choice?"

"Plan B."

"Same thing.

"They have different connotations."

"Then do you deny the fact that you want to be foremost in my mind?"

"It is not a fact."

"It's not?"

"I don't wish to argue!" I snapped. Honestly, why did my good days have to be ruined by this fool? Why did I ever allow myself to continue to associate with him? I brushed past him hoping to make it to the house alone. He could go flower picking alone, in other words, plan C. Ach! Why did it even matter that I was plan A or B or Z? What did I care?

"Ruth!" Fred ran around to face me. I did not stop, which caused him to back track quickly. "All right, I won't make you argue anymore. I'll try not to tease you, however tempting."

There was no apology. It was an insincere attempt to change my mind and go his way. Perhaps it was my mind being clouded with frustration, or perhaps it was an unconscious desire to exact revenge. Whatever the case, my next step landed on his right foot, hard. The force caused him to stumble and me to trip. I was able to catch myself just in time, but Fred wasn't so fortunate. I could not help but feel a surge of triumph when he hit the ground with a stunned grunt. He looked up with a new expression on his face. It was surprise, yes, but also a realization seemed to be dawning on him.

I took this opportunity to say with as much warning as possible, "Next time I think it will be less painful and easier to simply say you're sorry."

He remained sprawled on the ground for a moment, the respect and chagrin obvious on his features. Had I really just won an argument? I had really just chastised the ever gentlemanly fool and come out victorious and correct? I felt no guilt whatsoever. I felt very much justified. I liked this feeling of truly being in the right.

"I accept defeat," he declared. He raised a hand to me and asked, "Truce?"

I hesitated, and then nodded. I grasped his hand and braced myself as he pulled himself up. He did not let go of my hand and I cursed my decision. Without a trace of humor he looked me in the eye and stated, "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," I said frankly and retrieved my hand from his warm grasp. The twist in my gut had grown to a sizable knot. "Shall we go after those violets?"

Again real surprise spread across his face. "How did you know we'd be picking violets?"

Did the man think I did not pay attention? Well, I obviously proved him wrong. "I have ears, fool," I replied coldly. "It is Gwen's most beloved blossom for the simple reason that it is what Lawrence would get her. Listening and simple logic usually result in relatively correct information."

And again I had the pleasure of being the one with the last and final word.


	16. Children

******I think Ruthia and Fred go out of character here...I couldn't help it. :)**

**Thank you littlema for betaing!**

**Thanks ya'll for reviewing!**

**Chapter 16: Children**

"The best place to find violets is not far from the stream," Fred informed me as we walked away from the house and the moment of my victory had passed. "Aspen has been checking on it, and she says they've grown to a sizable patch."

"Hmm," I replied. The boarding house was on the edge of town and the backyard was a wonder to behold. A vast meadow stretched for a good half mile before the forest rose up green and inviting. The small river that ran through town wound its way just to the right of the meadow, lining it with tall emerald trees. There were flowers everywhere, and the grass waved lazily in the light breeze. I half wondered what it would be like to walk out here with bare feet, with my skirts held high to let the grass tickle at will. I almost smiled at the thought, but then Fred began talking again and I rolled my eyes in annoyance instead.

"When I first came to this town, violets were rare and very desirable. Since then many have imported and planted more so they are practically a weed. If we didn't have this holiday I'm sure people would be pulling them up and discarding them. Gwen would not have liked that."

I almost felt sorry for the fool. He was trying to draw me into a conversation but I was not complying. I simply walked, looking straight ahead, not even gracing him with a glance. He glanced over to see my reaction. I had none, so he pondered for a moment, and I'm sure the silence was awkward for him because he continued his talk, trying to fill the space.

"Gwen was just a girl at the time, barely fourteen. She'd come with her uncle, a merchant. She walked into the boarding house with a handkerchief on her head and dust on her boots. Lawrence was smitten." He chuckled at the memory. "Her uncle was planning to stay for only two weeks before traveling on, so Lawrence had to move quickly. He showed off his juggling, sang—though off key—, and did cartwheels. She threw dirt clods at him and at night told Minnie how adorable he was."

I smiled. I could see Gwen telling Lawrence to quit his antics and grow up. I could see her chucking dirt clods, while melting within and trying not to smile.

"Her uncle didn't like Lawrence. He thought he was just a boy who liked pretty girls. He never had a kind word for him and told Gwen to keep a cold shoulder. Gwen was faithful, since he was her guardian, her parents having died when she was but a babe. However, she really enjoyed helping Marta and Minnie around the house. She was…is… an excellent cook and Marta cherished her assistance. Ah, here is the patch."

I looked down at my feet and noticed the area was enveloped in a swirl of purple. We were just left of where the ground sloped downward into the stream and trees. Without a word I bent and began to deftly pluck the most beautiful blossoms. I was no stranger to flower picking; it was one of my favorite activities at the castle.

Fred watched me, but I didn't look up for his expression. Slowly he squatted and idly fingered a violet, as if wondering if he should pick that one or not, remaining oddly quiet. I suddenly didn't like the silence, and wished he would continue with the story. I found it fascinating, though I would not openly admit it.

"Well," I said, my tone implying I did not care one whit, "What happened next?"

"The second week was this very day, Day of the Flowers. Lawrence woke up much earlier than his mother could ever get him too and picked the grandest bouquet of violets you ever saw. In the presence of all of us, including Gwen's uncle, he presented it to her and asked her if she would accompany him to the dance that night. With a glance to her stern faced uncle, Gwen accepted." Again, he chuckled in remembrance. "Lawrence whooped loud enough for the whole town to hear."

I could not imagine Lawrence doing that. The juggler had only looked at me suspiciously or lain in bed coughing blood; I did not know him as I did Gwen. I did not smile, but I did feel a little more kindly for the young man.

"As you can imagine this did not sit well with the uncle. He did not attend the dance. He went to the local bar and complained to Geoff about wayward young people. It so happened that the host of the dance that year asked Lawrence to go get another keg of apple cider from the bar he had already paid for. While Lawrence was there the uncle got into a fight with another man who tried to rob him."

Commoners, they were so uncouth.

Fred's voice suddenly came out in a hurried rush as he concluded, "So Lawrence pitched in a fist or two and the uncle had a change of heart. Gwen stayed here when he moved on, and the rest is soon to be history."

I nearly glared at him. How could he gloss over the climax of Gwen's romance story? "You're a terrible story teller," I informed him.

A wave of innocence washed over his face. "Whatever do you mean, milady?"

"You know very well what I mean. No matter. I shall have Gwen tell me the details, and she'll do a _much_ better job than you."

Fred shrugged, "Go ahead. She is better suited since she was one of the main characters, and I was simply an innocent bystander."

"I can not imagine you being an innocent bystander," I retorted. "You probably goaded Lawrence on and teased Gwen mercilessly." Fred chuckled and I _accidentally_ smiled at the thought. It couldn't have been my fault because sometimes imagined images just strike me was amusing, and when that happens a good mood descends upon me. Good moods meant I was more lenient, even to sassy black mailers. Maybe the sugar in the tarts helped.

I dipped my head, letting my hair cover my face so my grin wouldn't be so obvious. Who knew what the fool would do if he discovered my high spirits? A violet fell from the top of my head and I looked up, startled. There was a leaf in my hair. How in the world...

Fred failed to hide his grin.

"You sneak!" I squawked, but not angrily. I shook my locks, and more plants fell out. This would not go un-avenged. Before I could remind myself I did _not _play with common scoundrels, I grabbed a fistful of grass beneath the tall violets and threw the bits of grass directly into his face. I smirked triumphantly when some of it landed into his grinning mouth. He made a spitting noise of protest and plucked up ammunition of his own.

Bouquets of flowers forgotten, I stood up and ran, shrieking a little as he tried to stop me. I knew he wanted to stuff blades of grass down my own throat, but I would not allow it. A clear remembrance of the game of tag came to mind and instinctively I turned sharply to the left. I heard him stumble behind me and turned to see him summersault into the thick grass. He sat up, an insulted look on his face.

"No fair!" he yelled.

"Was too!" I shouted.

"You tricked me!"

"You fell for it...literally!" I suddenly burst into laughter. I had just made a joke and it was hilarious! He had fallen, _literally_. I gloated over my fortune, especially since Fred looked sincerely chagrinned and did not laugh. His eyes were shining, but he did not laugh. Finally I had brought the usually good-natured man low and he was not acting like such a good sport. Oh sweet victory!

"Do not think that this action will go unanswered, milady," declared Fred, and it seemed as though some spell had been broken. I stopped laughing. His words had been playful but not so...childish, I did not feel as light hearted. I realized I hated the fact that he still called me "milady." However, I wasn't sure if I could stand it if he called me by my name, it seemed too...

I shrugged. "Nor will I go down without a fight."

"Ruth!"

We both turned at Aspen's voice. Surprisingly she was not far off, wading through the flowers and grass with adorable little skips. I raised my brows with disapproval and curiosity when I saw she was only wearing a sleeveless undershirt and cast away, patched bloomers. What in heavens had prompted her to go so improperly attired? Behind her were the two boys...Eugene and Peter. Minnie was there too, dressed similarly to Aspen, and my perplexity and disdain grew. Truly, commoners were most risqué to be running around in their underwear. She ignored my stares as she saw Fred first. Confusion filled her face as he quickly stood up, brushing more grass from his shirt. I bit back a smile.

"Fred!" exclaimed Aspen. "I didn't see you at first. What were you doing down there?"

Without missing a beat Fred replied, "I was picking flowers of course. The princess and I picked a grand bouquet for Gwen, but we left it over there. What are you rascals up to?"

"We're going swimming, and you have to come with us."

Ah, that would explain the lack of clothing, and yet did not justify it.

"You can come too, Ruth," said Peter benevolently, flashing me a smile that was missing a couple of teeth. I had to admit he was a charming looking lad, with thick curly locks and mischievous green eyes. That did necessarily mean I was any kinder, however.

"I'll come, but don't expect me to get a single drop on me. I'm not getting in any old dirty river, and I'm _certainly_ not degrading myself to a level of impropriety."

He scrunched up his nose, "What's...impropetety?"

I nearly smiled. "It is scandalous conduct."

"What's scandless?"

I flared with impatience. "It's dressing like that!" I declared emphatically motioning to Aspen and Minnie, causing the latter to flush slightly.

Aspen waved away my disdain dismissively. "It's ok to dress like this when you go swimming," she declared. "Mama said so. You don't have to go swimming, but you have to watch us. Minnie can take the bouquet to Gwen and come later. Come on! The sun is getting hot!" Without waiting for a word of protest from anyone, including the disappointed Minnie, Aspen was skipping again.

"Well, no use arguing," sighed Fred. He suddenly darted into a run and scooped Aspen up from behind, causing her to squeal with delight. The rest of us followed, leaving Minnie behind to finish the task Fred and I had set out to do. I'm nearly ashamed to say that I didn't pity her.

I had to admit, their "swimming hole" was situated in a most ideal location. The river wasn't dirty, though it wasn't very large either, more like a stream. However, someone (I could only assume it was Fred) had dammed it to create a large pool that was both deep and wide. It sat still and silvery with rays of sunlight piercing through the canopy of green trees. The flowers were even more abundant and colorful here than in the field. I was especially drawn to the exquisite white flower that had entwined itself around a huge tree whose branches hung directly over the stream. It was amazing I had to stare for a long a moment, before I realized what had happened around me.

I gave a little gasp when all three boys, now bare footed, nonchalantly tore off their shirts and tossed them away. Good heavens! Were all commoners so careless with the way they dressed? They were half naked! I must confess I couldn't remember if I had _ever_ seen a shirtless man before. Thankfully I had enough self control to not dwell on the fact that Fred was nicely tanned and toned. I gulped and averted my eyes to the ground as I concentrated on settling down on the bank, far away from where the action would be.

"Watch me, Ruth!" yelled Peter.

"No!" came Aspen's retort. "_I_ get to go first. You go after me. Watch _me,_ Ruth!"

I found it rather amusing that the usually sweet child was acting rather despotic because it was her birthday. I focused on her as she nimbly scrambled up the large tree and walked across the branch above the water. I suddenly felt a squeeze at my heart. What was she doing? The child would surely fall and...

_SPLASH_. I started to my feet, eyes wide when she tumbled into water clenched into a ball. Why did Fred just stand there letting her doing such a reckless deed? Why didn't he jump in and save her? I wanted to yell at him, but nothing could leave my mouth. It seemed like forever, but she emerged seconds later a huge grin on her face.

"Wasn't that wonderful?" she squealed. "Did I make a big splash?"

I stared at her, unsure what to say.

"_Now_ watch _me_," declared Peter who was standing with chest puffed out on the limb. It struck me that they were jumping off on _purpose. _Why hadn't I realized that before? Still, it seemed so dangerous I couldn't help but watch numbly as the boy suddenly did a nose dive into the water. I didn't see him pop up again for a while and just before I began to worry he broke the surface right at my feet. I let out a yelp. Of course he found this very funny and was ecstatic at having scared me.

As he crawled dripping to the shore I again heard the phrase that was getting a little annoying, "Now, watch, me!"

I wrinkled my nose a little when I saw Fred was now perched on that wretched branch. I rolled my eyes at him, but he just grinned. I couldn't stop myself from gasping, however, when, without warning, he did a flip off the branch, landing on his back in the water. I stared. I had never seen anything like it!

"Show off," sniffed Peter.

I hid my astonishment and agreed with him. Eugene tried to copy Fred, but failed miserably, only succeeding in a loud belly flop. Everyone laughed heartily when he came up rubbing his belly with a scowl. I soon became use to the fact that these children (yes Fred was a child) would throw themselves off the limb and into the waiting water. I began laughing at their antics and attempts to out do the other. Peter was very determined to do a flip like Fred, but could never quite succeed. I even became use to the fact that Aspen and Fred were very much underdressed...well a _little_ bit use to it.

Since it was a very hot day I contented myself with sitting with my legs dangling in the water. I was at a safe distance, but sometimes, when Fred did flips or fell curled up in a ball I would get sprayed. I did not complain. It felt good. Once Peter was audacious enough to give me a full hug right after he had come out of the water. Horrified, I protested vigorously shoving him away, but giggled at the same time since it did cool me down. For his offence, Peter was tossed into the water by Fred.

We were so engrossed with the fun of water, tricks, and laughing, that Minnie vanished from our minds completely. We were all rather startled when she suddenly appeared in the clearing. She was fully dressed, nicer than usual even. Her hair, which had been in braids, was let loose, and fell down her back in gentle waves. I had to admit, she looked lovely.

"Hurry, it's time to go!" she proclaimed, causing consternation all around.

"What?" wondered Eugene.

"It's time already?" questioned Aspen.

"Go where?" I asked, feeling rather ignorant.

"The dance will start in an hour. You've all got to get dry and dressed. Hurry, you don't want to be late." Minnie began picking up the shirts of the boys and offered Aspen a large towel.

"No!" yelled Peter. "I hate dances!" To prove his point he plugged his ears and jumped straight into the water. Minnie ignored him as she helped Aspen squeeze water out of her hair and clothing. Fred tugged his shirt back on, but it stuck to him and looked uncomfortable. I stood up and waited by the bank as Peter continued to swim in the water, ignoring us.

I did not want to leave the rascal, since I had actually became quite fond of him. However, I also wanted to see what the dance was like. I liked to watch dancing, and I was very curious as to how these Durantians and country bumpkins did it. Perhaps a part of me, a girly sentimental part, wanted to do a little bit of dancing, even if it was with peasants.

"Peter," I called out. "You'll be coming to the dance, won't you?"

"No!" he shouted, wrinkling his nose. "My mama makes me learn those dances, and it's BORING!"

"Ah, so you are an expert. Well, if you aren't there, who will teach me how to dance?"

He stared at me blankly as if I were a strange creature. "You don't know how to dance?"

I shook my head. I was afraid he'd appoint Fred as the obvious solution to my dilemma but thankfully he liked me enough not to hand me over to someone else.

"All right!" His cheerful mood was back. "I'll show ya! It's a great deal of fun."

"I'm sure it is, especially with such a dashing partner as you," I said demurely. It struck me that his excited grin reminded me of Fred's. It was strange and yet appropriate since he was still very much a little boy, and Fred often behaved as such. I picked up my skirts and sent him a pretty smile. "I'll expect to see you there in proper attire, sir."

As I turned back I was slightly surprised and amused to see Minnie staring in amazement, and Fred looking at me with an eye that could only be filled with hidden jealousy and surprised curiosity. Oh, this was a sweet victory indeed. I had just succeeded in making the usually overly confident man envious of a ten year old.

* * *

As soon as we arrived at the crowded building I ducked my head and tried to hide behind Jess. Gwen had stayed at home with Lawrence allowing Marta and Jess to attend. I was actually rather surprised at myself. Usually I boldly entered the room, relishing in the lime light as men gazed with awe and women with envy. Here, I felt distinctly uncomfortable. I was not the star here. I was only a stranger who wished to spy on their way of dancing.

Fred, of course would not allow it. I nearly growled when his hand gripped my arm and pulled me from my hiding place, allowing the many lights from the torches and lanterns to illuminate my face. I looked up to snap and glare at him, but stopped when I realized he was introducing me to someone. I nodded stoically at the man who was gazing at me. Thankfully, he did not stare, simply smiled politely. He was older, and his wife stood next to him.

"What a dear!" crooned the woman, smiling at me. "You are quite pretty, lassie."

Quite pretty? I blinked at her. I had never been described so quaintly. Where were the words _beautiful_, _stunning_, or _perfect_? Had I really changed to be described as merely pretty? I realized with a bit of shock that I had not looked in the mirror before coming here. True, the only mirror in the house was small and not as clear as the full length one at the castle, but still. Due to Minnie's urgings I had simply tossed on a fine green dress, and pulled back half of my unruly curls in a white ribbon before hurrying out the door. Goodness, I was becoming careless in how I looked! I was nearly as bad as a commoner! And for some reason I don't think I was distraught about the matter.

They had continued talking, with me completely unaware as to what they were discussing until I realized they were all looking at me expectantly.

"Uh, excuse me?" I congratulated myself for not blushing at my inability to keep track of the conversation.

"I wondered if you were enjoying your stay here." The woman was smiling patiently.

"Oh, ah, of course." I cast around desperately for a suitable reply, fully aware of the fact that Fred was the one who looked most interested in my answer. "It is better than I expected." I suddenly felt a rise of my old pride coming back. "Naturally I had envisioned a dirty hovel since Durant isn't _nearly_ as civilized as Luzcando. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find it is a decent place. I am mostly impressed with the fauna and flora. I heartily approve of today's holiday."

To my surprise the man actually chuckled, clearly appreciating the response I thought would subtly insult him. "Charming," he said to no one in particular. "I've never met a Luzcandian who did not praise their country in their pride, but you are the first who has been good enough to give sincere credit to Durant. For that I respect you."

So then, somehow, I had gained the respect of this man, who I realized was not a common peasant. He was dressed simply and yet well, with polished boots, and a gold chain about his neck. His wife wore lace and make up. What were they doing at a farmer's dance, when they obviously belonged in a candle lit home with servants and silver platters? Surely they weren't being forced there, like I. What was their excuse?

I was tempted to ask, but they had said their parting words and were moving gracefully away, chatting amiably with those around them. Without taking my eyes from them, I leaned toward Fred and whispered, "Who are they?"

"That was the good mayor and his most agreeable wife," Fred informed me. Ah, that would explain their rank, and I suppose the reason for their visit. They wanted to be on good terms with their citizens. I could not help but be impressed with their sincerity as they visited with people of all kinds. I suddenly realized something else and looked up at Fred directly, my eyes thinned.

"You told me that dreadful Raphael was the son of the mayor."

"So I did." Fred nodded, seeming rather pleased at my observation.

"How can such a charming couple produce such awful offspring?" I queried, aghast that the mayor had to have such a son. How did Raphael not take after his noble parents?

"It is unfortunate when a parent does all they can to teach a child basic manners and good conduct. However, they can not force it on them. They will eventually choose themselves how they will act."

I could not help but wonder if he were hinting to me. He always was. I pushed his wise observation away. Now was not a time to think about philosophy or my own life. I had plenty of time for _that_. I was grateful when Peter suddenly appeared before us. His hair was dry, but still tousled and his clothes were neat.

"Are you ready to learn how dance, Ruth?" he asked. His eyes held mine, but darted down every now and then in a suspicious manner.

I smiled, ready to oblige, but then looked to where he was glancing. To my dismay, I found that my arm was wrapped comfortably around Fred's. How that happened, I swore did not know. I had thought he was holding _mine_. Somehow, that little sneak...I let go immediately, not allowing myself to look at the triumphant smirk that was sure to be there.

"Certainly, Peter."

Without a streak of shyness, he grasped my hand and dragged me to the side of the room less occupied. I was startled at his audacity, and a little perturbed that I had just allowed this young fellow to take control of my steps. He was a confusing teacher, assuming I knew some basic steps and skipping over some essential information. I didn't know whether to laugh at his patient attempts to twirl me under his arm and keep me from stepping on his toes, or to snap out in rebellion and frustration at having to go through such nonsense. I decided on the former, which made me much happier.

We managed to make a pretty good couple, Peter and I. I did not step on his toes often, and he was very good at stretching his arm far enough for me to go under. It was a good thing I was reasonably short of stature. However, I could tell he was getting tired of this dancing lesson, and I realized I was lucky to have gotten the boy to do this much. Dancing is not a natural pastime of a ten year old. I saw Eugene and Aspen sneaking through the crowds, talking excitedly. No doubt they were up to some pretend game.

"Thank you for the dance, lesson, Peter, but I'm rather tired. How about if you let me have a break and go let Eugene and Aspen enjoy some of your charming company?"

He flashed me a grateful and winning smile before dashing off after his friends. I smiled at his departure and turned to watch the excitement of the hall. I was fascinated with the interaction and animation of the dancers. They switched partners often and did a lot of stamping and clapping and twirling. It looked very complicated, and I was sure I could not have learnt them in one evening. Sometimes the fiddlers, flutists, and lute players would switch to a more gentle tune, then the dancers would couple off and sway to a more simple rhythm.

I was startled when a man approached me from the side. The stench accompanying him told me instantly that he had been drinking. He was not so intoxicated that he wobbled or slurred his words however, only enough to make him brash.

"Care to dance, lassie?" he asked with a twisted smile.

I didn't even look at him full on. "No."

"Oh, come now, surely you ain't scared of me."

"Only disgusted," I replied coldly.

That offended him. He grabbed my arm and turned me roughly around. "Now see here missy, I ain't aim to hurt you, but you have a sassy mouth."

"You have a stinky one," I retorted trying to pull away. Why did men have to be so strong? "Let me go."

He suddenly gave me a lopsided grin that sickened me. He released me, but did not back down. "See, I ain't cruel. So don't be cruel to me. Just come dance one 'ittle bitty song w' me." He stepped closer, leering down at me. I wanted to back away, but there were too many people around us. I suddenly felt a surge of fear as I realized the man would not take no for an answer. He was advancing, again ready to grab my arms. I stepped back, sending up a quick desperate prayer.

The man stiffened and stopped before I even felt Fred's warm presence at my side. A flood of relief washed over me, and I immediately felt myself relax and almost smiled at the man triumphantly. For once I thanked the Heavens Fred was so protective.

"Do we have a problem?" asked Fred in his neutral tone.

"I was jus wantin' to do a bit of dancin' with the lassie," he mumbled. He glared at Fred with obviously jealous and spiteful eyes. "Didn't think there'd be someone to take away m' fun."

"She is spoken for. Sorry, but you'll have to search elsewhere for your…fun."

The man grunted, and turned away, but not before looking me over one last time with a mocking sneer. Fred stiffened with dislike and I sent the scoundrel a cold stare. It was only then that I noticed Fred's arm was around my waist in a protective almost possessive manner. The significance was not lost on me, and I pulled away, suddenly unhappy at the man who had just saved me from an unwanted stranger.

"Wait just a minute," I growled. "What do you mean I'm _spoken for_? I'm not your girl. I'm not anybody's."

"Did I say you were?" replied Fred.

"Don't play innocent," I snapped. "Connotations and implications are just as clear as actually saying it. That man thinks I'm yours and now he's going to tell all the others."

"Is that a bad thing?" He seemed perfectly fine with the idea of letting everyone assume that he and I were a couple. I flushed, naturally from anger of course.

"Yes! It isn't the truth! There is nothing that binds us but a stupid contract that will soon be void."

"I didn't ever really consider you to be a stout defender for truth, since you're very comfortable with twisting it a little to get what you want." His tone was still empty, but I wondered when he would ever forget the silk merchant incident. "However, if that is how you feel, then I will announce to this crowd that you are completely unattached and are free for the taking." He turned away.

I nearly paled as I grabbed his arm, desperate to stop the fool. "Wait, you idiot!" I gasped, as he turned back to face me. "You can't do that!"

He was almost smiling as he asked artlessly, "Why not? I must tell them the truth, as you wish."

"I am not free for the taking!" I declared stubbornly. How dare he throw me out there as if I were a thing to be had and taken? I was not an object to be thought of thus. I flushed at the idea.

"Oh, have you attached yourself to Peter now?" The scorn in his tone was both playful and real.

Remembering his envious glances, I folded my arms and gave me a sweet smile. "I've thought about it. He is _very_ charming and sweet. He is good at dancing and has the cutest smile. You should be jealous."

At that bold remark Fred became defensive. "Jealous? Are you accusing me of being jealous of _Peter_?"

"Yes."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"You sound like a child."

"You started it."

We glared at each other before we simultaneously burst into quiet laughter. The situation was just too ridiculous and funny to pass over. Fred and I had been standing stubbornly facing each other and arguing like petulant children. The idea was absurd! I was NOT supposed to be doing this! That made me somber up and I again faced the rather bemused fool.

"Back to the subject at hand. I understand your concern, but I am perfectly capable of caring for myself. You will remember that I have had much experience in dealing with unwanted men. I know how to get rid of them. I don't need your help."

Fred shrugged. "Very well, I will not discourage any more men. Forgive me for doing so before hand."

Again that surge of panic filled me. What was I thinking? Of course I needed Fred's help! Had I forgotten so soon that these provincials were not so easy to shake off as disciplined well mannered noblemen? They were bold and did not feel qualms about laying hands on innocent defenseless maidens. I _couldn't_ just let Fred go. However, I couldn't just ask for the help I had just scorned. Ach! Why had I been so stupid? Stupid, stupid pride.

He was turning. He was leaving. He wasn't coming back.

"Wait!" How many times would I have to say that?

He twisted back, looking back at me expectantly and a little too victoriously. What to say? I had to keep my pride, and yet save myself from the wolves that lurked nearby. I lifted my chin and gave him the superior look I knew I was so good at.

"Peter failed to teach me all the steps. Would you do the honor of finishing the job?" Oh, lovely. My mindless tongue had just cost me a dance with Fred. What was becoming of my brain? Was I completely witless?

Fred smiled and gave me an impressive bow. "Most certainly, milady."

I gritted my teeth as he stepped close. "And for the sake of all that is good, _don't_ call me that again. My name is Ruthia."

"My apologies, Ruthia. I must ask you to forgive me every time it slips out hence forth. Old habits die hard." That had been his first time to call me by my given name. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. And why had I told him Ruthia instead of simply Ruth? My mind was pulled back to the present as he said, "The jig Peter was teaching you isn't playing, but if you just follow me, you'll get this one easily."

I found myself in the familiar dancing position, hand on shoulder, hand on waist, hands clasped together. Oh, heavens, please make the song short and sweet...forget the sweet part, only short. I did not tilt my head up as I glanced down at his feet which moved in sync to the rather slow music in comparison to the other pieces. I gasped in surprise and delight when I realized it was the waltz. I knew this one very well.

Before I could remind myself I was _not_ supposed to be happy at the moment, I looked up into Fred's face, my eyes shining. "You Durantians know the waltz! I am impressed!"

He chuckled. "We are not as backwards as you think. Though not everyone knows it, it is still played at every dance." He was right about the lack of couples, and I realized we were one of only a dozen. I was also keenly aware of the many pairs of eyes that were on us. Since it was still a rather unknown dance, the crowd seemed content to watch in awe as those who did know how to do it, floated across the room.

I was startled when Fred proceeded to twirl me skillfully to the beat, never missing a step. I thanked the stars that I was well attuned to this dance and I responded to every hint perfectly. For a moment I felt as though I were at one of the grand balls held in my honor. Although men were lowly creatures, it was great fun to be twirled by them, and I never missed a chance to dance, though I deigned from making conversations with them.

Fred seemed to understand this, because he did not say a word as he guided me through some of the most intricate moves. I couldn't help but be amazed at his knowledge of the graceful art. Where would he have learned it? Surely only the courtesan class knew the intricacies of the high class dance. Marta? Gwen? Minnie? No, no. They certainly didn't know it. Jess and Marta were doing the basics, but didn't seem very good at even that. I caught of glimpse of Minnie staring at us with blazing thin eyes and a tight lip. Not her.

Where? I wanted to ask this of him, but didn't want my admiration to shine through. No. I would not encourage him. I again became caught up in the music as it increased in speed and rose to the climax and closing. I relished the spinning, the twirls, the side steps, and close proximity. I mean—no, not the close proximity.

What astonished me even more was when, as the last note was played, he did not drop me into the customary dip. I will confess that it was the worst part of the dance for me. I _hated_ being dipped. Still, I couldn't help but wonder why he didn't do it. He simply stopped; his breath heavier than usual. I looked up at him, my brows scrunched in confusion as everyone else performed elaborate or simple bends and drops. I saw him swallow hard as he abruptly let go of my hand and waist. A weak smile adorned his rather flushed features.

"You are very good at that one," he said, his voice a bit strained.

I continued to nearly glare at him, wondering silently what was wrong.

He scratched the back of his head. "I need to go get a bit of fresh air. Pretty hot in here, eh?" he laughed nervously. I just gaped at him, so he left without another word.

Shaking my head at his strange behavior, I joined Jess and Marta at the sidelines. Marta gave me a spontaneous squeeze, enveloping me in her soft arms. She was good at that.

"You were _wonderful_ darling. Forgive me for saying it, but you and Fred were the most striking and amazing couple out there. No one in the world could compare to you, I don't care how expert they are! You are simply graceful!"

I smiled politely. "Thank you. I must confess I was _very_ surprised Fred even _knew_ the waltz."

"You'll find he is full of surprises, dear."

She had _that_ right. I sat at the refreshments table, keeping my hands and mouth full to discourage any potential men seeking a dance partner. I was very puzzled at the moment. I began to sincerely wonder who Fred was. He was certainly not the common commoner. He had talents and traits that just could not be found in any other ordinary bumpkin. Marta and Jess were decent and respectable yes, and carried themselves with confidence and quiet grace, but Fred... I realized he had an almost _noble _bearing about him. Everywhere he went, people gave him respect no matter their age or rank (excluding idiots like Raphael).

Lawrence had referred to him as "sir" on a number of occasions, though I was not supposed to hear that part. He had insisted he could buy anything he wanted, but was more content to work for everything. He had a great knowledge of nearly everything, especially how royalty worked. He was not from here. Where was he from? Who _was_ he?

Perhaps I was just imagining things. He was a court jester after all. He had seen plenty of noblemen in his life time as he performed for them in their very halls. It could be he had simply picked up on their habits and attributes. His occupation as an "odd man" required that he be skilled in a variety of things. Perhaps he was just good at picking up on upper class qualities.

That led to another question (don't ask how). What were his thoughts of this whole situation? He had shown amusement at my predicament, patience at the trials I gave him, and was always willing to offer help and "good" advice. Why was he doing this? This was the question that had plagued me since he had rescued me from Lord Garret. Why was he even bothering? If he truly wanted to marry me, why didn't he sign the paper and be done with it? Why didn't he act like he loved me? Did he? I flushed at the idea. I had no idea. I had never thought he did because I had always considered him to be annoying and brash. However, I realized he was also very kind and concerned about everything I thought.

What was he thinking? He wasn't adverse to me, that much was certain. Though what his exact feelings were for me, I honestly couldn't tell. He would ignore me one moment, and then shower attention the next. He would compliment and insult me in the same sentence and sometimes left me feeling angry and yet somehow wanting more. More of what, I could not say, and that was what distressed me most of all.

I slowly chewed on the last bite of apple pie I currently had on my plate. I didn't know what number of treat it was, but I realized my stomach was feeling funny. Oh, dear. I shook my head, hoping to clear away all the thoughts I had been having. What did I care? I had decided I did not hate the fool, but I was still annoyed with him...and curious. No, no, it did not matter where he came from or who he truly was. I did not even care about how he felt about me. It didn't matter.

Happy with the lies I had just told myself I stood up, brushing off crumbs.

"Would you like to dance?"

I sighed as I eyed the young man before me. He was not ugly and had decent teeth. The song was a fast jig and I began to shake my head. "I am not familiar with your traditional folk dances. I am sorry."

He seemed a bit taken aback at my formal speech, but was not put off. He shrugged. "I could teach ya. I'm sure you'll catch on quick."

Peter had taught me some and I was wistful at the thought of dancing...but this was a mere peasant! I didn't even know him! Why should he have the honor of holding me in his arms? I sighed. Why was I still holding tightly on to that stubborn prideful excuse? He couldn't be any worse than the drooling noblemen I'd been acquainted with. I took his waiting hand and so let go of my arrogance.


	17. Unexpected Transformation

**Devilishduck, InChrist-Billios, Kokoro5050, Daze-dly, Backroads, bellathedisenchanted, Pimpernel Princess, VickySticky, daring2dream, LaBelled'Italie, Yodeling Pickles, Mikure,** and **x- Lakota -x** for review. And special thanks to **littlema** for fixing mistakes.

I just wanted to make a quick note that said I had _completely_ different intentions for the ending to this chapter, that did not include Fred at all! But they refused to let me write it, and insisted on the one that is here. I hope you like it.

**Chapter 17: Unexpected Transformation**

"It's morning!" Aspen's cheerful exclamation literally shattered my dreamless sleep and hence my good mood. She pushed aside the curtains and the sun streamed into the room and on my face. I growled and turned over, pulling the covers over my head.

"It's morning!" she said again. "Time to get up. I think we slept later than usual. Mama lets us do that after a long night of dancing. I'm starved. I'm going to help with breakfast. Oops! I should get dressed first!" Giggling ensued and some frolicking song about a frog who met and married his best friend. Ridiculous.

I tried to push out her singing and the clatter that was going on down stairs, but to no avail. Why was everyone so loud this morning? I wanted to sleep! Aspen skipped from the room, slamming the door shut behind her. I heard Jess' booming laugh and suddenly remembered the pottery stand. No…not today. I did not want to move. Exhaustion still filled me, and I was not willing to leave the comfortable bed for a morning of work and movement.

After a moment I heard the door open. Marta's voice was cheerful, but had a tinge of worry to it as she asked, "Ruth, dear, are you sick?"

"Uh, uh."

"What was that?"

"No!"

"Well, then breakfast is ready. Hurry up and get dressed. We're already a little bit behind as it is. Jess wants to get going as soon as possible."

"I'm not going," I mumbled without conviction.

Marta chuckled and I felt her tug on my blankets. "If you stay in bed too long you'll be roasted like pork in a pie." I heard her leave, but she did not shut the door.

Frustrated, knowing I could never fall back asleep now, I sat up right as Sir Walter was walking past. He paused to stare open mouthed at me. Furious, I grabbed the first thing I could lay hands on and threw it at him. Sadly I had gotten out of practice so the cup that had been sitting by my bed hit the door post and broke in pieces.

"Ruffian!" I yelled as Sir Walter disappeared in fright. I got out of bed and went to close the door, but called out down the hall, "You dirty minded scoundrel! I shan't miss next time!" There. _That_ would teach him to keep his measly eyes to himself. I shut the door a little harder than was necessary and looked at the broken dish. A tinge of regret shot through me. It was one of Mata's nicer clay saucers that had a flower painted on it.

Ah, well she had enough dishes, she wouldn't miss just one. I pushed the remains with my foot under the bed and pulled the blanket down to hide it. I didn't bother to make the bed, as was my recent custom. Instead I got dressed and brushed my hair. Half way through the brush got stuck and refused to come loose. I angrily jerked and it came free, leaving me with a sore spot on my head.

"Stupid brush," I muttered and tossed it away. Who cared what my hair looked like anyway? I didn't need to look beautiful in front of these mere mongrels. They didn't deserve it. When I washed my face, it woke me up a little more and made me feel a _little_ better. Refusing to even look in the mirror, I left the room and stomped down the stairs.

As I suspected, everyone looked up as I entered the dinning room. Everyone…but Fred. I gritted my teeth, sent everyone the death glare, and sat down huffily in an empty chair. It happened to be next to Master Hyde who wisely tried to inch away. I continued to glare rather pointedly at Fred, who never even deigned me a glance. I hardly paid attention as grace was said, the chatter continued, and my plate was filled by the obliging Gwen, who went upstairs soon after; to attend to the ailing Lawrence of course.

What was his problem anyway? I wondered crossly. Why had he left after we danced? Why did he dance so well? Why did he completely avoid me the rest of the dance? Why hasn't he talked to me since that moment he left? Why was I upset that he was ignoring me? Isn't that what I wanted? Still I couldn't get rid of the confusion and annoyance I felt. Why? Why? WHY!

The noise stopped.

I glanced around, both irritated and perplexed as all eyes (except for Fred's) turned to me in expectation. What were they looking at? Was there food on my face or something? I glared back.

Suddenly Fred met my gaze as he calmly set down his fork. With a slight sigh of exasperation he asked, "Why what?"

Oh. I had said that last bit out loud. I gulped nervously. I was not about to reveal my feelings at the breakfast table in front of everyone. I blushed hotly and averted my eyes to my food. Thinking quickly I asked, "Why do we have eggs every morning? I hate eggs."

The tension and apprehension that was in the room died away as everyone went back to eating, some chuckling. Marta smiled kindly at me.

"They're healthy for you, dear. You've been eating them fine for the past two weeks. Why do you hate them now?"

I wrinkled my nose and answered honestly, "I can taste the chicken in them."

Fred, who had been taking a swig at his goat's milk suddenly made a choking sound and spluttered the drink all over the table in front of him. Some of it landed on Minnie and Sir Walter who were across from him and I couldn't help but twitch a smile at their disgusted astonished faces. My smile slightly grew as Fred continued to cough and chuckle simultaneously, which made a very strange noise. I think I was the only one who caught the chuckles, since everyone else looked very perturbed, even Jess.

"Are you all right, Fred?" Marta seemed very worried at what just happened.

"Fine," he blurted roughly, still trying to clear his throat. For a brief instant his eyes met mine, and they were sparkling with humor. I knew why he was laughing and it made my heart light, though I don't know why. I ought to have been even more cross with him. He knew of my extreme dislike for the fowl and shouldn't be laughing at my discomfiture. But I wasn't.

Breakfast continued without further incident, and I didn't complain about the eggs, though I did not eat them. Every now and then I'd glance at Fred and he'd have a small smile on his lips. Sometimes he'd clear his throat quietly as if he still had something in it. Strangely I felt as though my morning mood was very much improved.

I tried to change, by frowning, and glowering, and considering the crisp sunny morning to be ugly and tiresome, but it did not happen until Jess announced it was time to go to the pottery stand. Even then I only felt a slight irritation. I remembered my earlier resolve to stay in bed and refuse to go. However, I did not feel that way any more. With a fierce suddenness I realized I wanted out of that house. I wanted to be outside and far away from Fred and his strange silence. I wanted to be fully distracted so no stray unwanted thoughts would come creeping up on me.

"All right then!" I declared, tying on my apron and grabbing my shoes. "What are we waiting for? Let's be off!"

I think I shocked the whole household.

While I practiced my smile on those who filled the market place, Jess worked on setting up the pottery. I learned that if I stood in front of our display and told Jess I would try to bring costumers to our shop then he would not insist that I help. I would not deign to actually put my hands on the stuff, but I could smile…barely. It was still hard to smile at complete dirty strangers when I really didn't think there was anything to smile about. However apparently I was a good actress because people came. I don't think there were as many costumers as the first day, but perhaps that was because I had not brushed my hair that day.

Still, I was not prepared or happy when a man suddenly backed right into me, nearly causing me to fall. I pushed him away, and stepped back a little into the street, my temper lost. It was a hot afternoon, and I was sweating. I was not feeling generous or nice.

"Idiot!" I hissed at him as he stared with confusion and little fear. "What were you thinking when you rammed into me like that? Nothing? Is that thing on your shoulders filled with saw dust?"

"Miss…" he started.

"Ruth!" Jess looked worried too, as he started forward.

"I refuse to accept anything but a profuse apology," I snapped, ignoring Jess. All at once the shrill neigh of a horse sounded right behind me. I gave a little shriek and jumped back in complete surprise to find myself nearly nose to nose with a pair of prancing steeds being held back.

I gaped at them in astonishment as the driver, sitting on top a grand carriage, looked down at me with a pale face. I realized he had nearly run me over. If possible, my mouth opened wider. I felt Jess' hands pull me gently yet quickly closer to the sidelines where all the people had found safety…including the unfortunate man who had accidentally hit me in his haste to move.

The carriage moved a couple of steps then paused again as the window was flung open and the regal head of a young lady was stuck defiantly out. I blinked in astonishment. I knew the lady. It was Princess Bella, younger sister of Princess Katelyn, the one woman who could possibly rival my claim as the most beautiful woman in the land. I had met the young princess on a number of occasions, since she had entered society the same year I did. She was beautiful, like her sister, but not beautiful enough; certainly not at that moment when she looked out the carriage window directly into my shocked face.

"Dirty fool!" she cried. Her face contorted with anger and disdain. She glanced me up and down with palpable contempt. "Next time use that head of yours, wench. You nearly cost me a sprain in the neck!" A mocking sneer climbed her face, but then it seemed someone pulled her back in. Another face appeared in the window, more beautiful and calm than the first. It was Princess Katelyn herself.

She too looked me over before speaking, not unkindly, though I could hear the obvious condensation in the tone. "Pay no heed to my sister, maid. She gets grumpy when awoken from her nap." She turned her attention to the driver. "Drive on, sir."

They passed. The beautiful gold gilded carriage with the white steeds and lovely, clean, refined, dressed up, haughty ladies inside rolled by me as if it did not care any more. The incident was finished, and I was only a memory, an annoying bump in their journey to who knew where.

My knees collapsed beneath me. I sat in the dirt and grime of where I was. I sat in my filthy working dress made of cotton and wool. I sat in a dusty street where wretched commoners argued over prices. I sat with my hair un-brushed and unwashed. I sat with my face unrecognizable to those who once knew me. I sat in utter humiliation.

"Ruth?"

I heard Jess' voice, soft and low next to me, but I did not look at him. I shook my head, back and forth, my mouth still agape. I did not know what to say or even what to think. I felt a prick at my eyes, but I held them back. I would not cry. I was not that weak. Instead my eyes lifted to the sky and I began to talk. The words just fell.

"Did you see that? They didn't even know me. They thought I was a mere maid of modest means. They assumed I was scum. I was nothing in their eyes. A few short months ago I was all they could see. I was the top, the most beautiful, the most sought after woman they knew of. Now….they didn't even recognize me. They scorned me and scoffed. I am nothing."

I felt my lips purse. Thankfully Jess didn't say anything. He ignored those coming by and looking at his products. He just sat and listened. So I kept talking as my thoughts flowed more clearly.

"I could have been the one in the carriage. I _have_ been the one in the carriage. _I _used to scold the peasants and give the sneering glances. That was my life. That's who I was." My lip tightened and my eyes thinned as I realized something else. "That still could have been my life. I should be in a palace with servants and clean attire. I should be eating chocolate and dismissing those too hideous for my presence." I shook my head—that sounded ridiculous at the moment.

"Instead, I'm here. In a stupid, filthy, unknown town trying to work for someone, and wearing a plain dress. My hair isn't even brushed!" The last part sounded more like a wail. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed softly. It wasn't loud. I muffled the noise, knowing I _was_ in a crowded public area.

Jess patted my back, a little awkwardly.

"What's wrong with the maid?"

I couldn't even tell if the speaker was a man or woman.

"She mourns her poor state," replied Jess sincerely. I cried harder. I heard more words of pity and a clink of coins and departing footsteps. This happened multiple times, but I didn't pay attention.

If only I had been the daughter my father had wanted me to be. If only I hadn't been so proud and stubborn. I would have married a nice rich man and wouldn't be in such a wretched condition. Why didn't I marry...King Thrushbeard? He hadn't been ugly, even with the crooked chin. I would have been Queen of Durant! If I had married him, I would have a bath every day and never have to deal with chickens except to eat them. I would not have to lift a finger to support myself or cook meals. I wouldn't have to know how to do dishes or bake pies or anything! I would be taken care of. Oh, stupid pride! I would never have been annoyed with so many pesky suitors. I would never have to want money to buy a bit of silk. I would never have to hear words of pity spoken for my sake.

Pity! They pitied me! The common folk who had to work for their living felt sympathy for me, the most beautiful woman in the land. My father had more wealth and servants than a hundred of these villages! I could have any man I wanted. And yet it was because I didn't _want_ any man that brought me to this low state of being pitied.

What in the world would Fred think if he knew my thoughts then?

I stopped crying. Why in the world had I thought of Fred at a moment like _that_? Still, I wiped away my tears and put on a stiff upper lip. I was being ridiculous. It wasn't the end of the world. I still had a life. I could still fix things. How to go about it was an entirely different question.

Once I returned home to the castle I would be restored to my full glory and not have to deal with annoying fools. I would not have to sell pottery or make my bed. I would not have to strain the milk or help with breakfast. I would not have to watch after… adorable little girls who couldn't tell time. I would not have to play tag with dirty children or watch as they threw themselves half naked in the water. I would not have to argue with Fred or have grass fights with him…

That was a good thing, right? I let out a shuddering breath and pulled my knees up close to my chest. I was not stupid, so I would not deny it. I did enjoy my stay with these peasants, no matter how dirty I had gotten. A small smile lifted my lips as I thought about all the ridiculous things I had said when first arriving. All the trifling arguments with Fred and the silly chores Marta made me do flooded my mind. Oh, I could complain long and loudly, but in the end I would admit I enjoyed it. Well…maybe not _all_ the arguments, but in general, it had not been such a horrible experience.

"Ruth?" Jess' voice was tentative, and his touch even more so.

I looked up at him with a smile. "Look, there is Pandaris' nose." I pointed into the heavens, unwittingly remembering when I had surprised Fred with my knowledge of the constellations.

Jess looked up, but not high enough and asked, "Who is Pandaris?"

I sighed. "Never mind." I looked around and realized that with the star had come evening. People were finishing their packing and they were leaving. Had so much time really passed without me knowing it? I looked at the cart, piled high with the products. I stood up a little sheepishly.

"I wasn't very much of a help today. I'm sorry. I just…was a little…"

"Don't you worry your pretty head about it," Jess laughed. "In fact, you've actually done an excellent job. Your tears brought in more money than I've ever seen in one day. However, the givers did say it was for you so…" he placed a rather hefty purse in my hand. It clinked with coins.

I stared at it in awe. "They gave this, to _me_?"

He nodded. "Not many people can pass by a weeping damsel without wanting to help."

I felt my heart squeeze. I was a princess _and_ a charity case. _That_ was irony. I shook my head and gave him back the bag. "I couldn't. It wouldn't be right. I wasn't in distress. You keep it."

Jess was thoroughly surprised. "But it's yours!" he protested. "You don't think _I'm_ in distress do you?"

I nearly laughed at his contorted face. "No, no. I guess not, but your son is. This is his stand, give it to him. You could say I just put on that little display to get more money."

Slowly, hesitantly, Jess nodded. He stashed the sack and helped me up on the wagon. As we rode away from the market place, I felt as if I could fly away to the stars that were coming out. The summer dusk was beautiful, and the crickets were singing away. The wind blew through the trees and Jess whistled with renewed alacrity.

A sudden thought made me turn to him sharply and place a hopeful hand on his arm. "Don't tell Fred a word about what occurred today," I said.

Jess' brows rose along with his teasing smile. "Now why would you be afraid I'd do such a thing?"

I faced the road. "I think it is safe to say that I know you well enough that you'd want to stir something up."

So, Jess' booming laugh added to the ending of that peaceful summer day.

When we reached home, dinner was just being served. It was a casual affair, with the table not being set, and everyone eating when and where they felt like. I noticed Marta was scooping up the stew into two separate bowls, and I realized it was for Gwen and Lawrence. Through the back window I saw Fred's silhouette coming to the back door. He was probably returning from the evening's milking and was going to take it up to them. Thinking quickly, I came up to Marta, who seemed rather startled at my appearance.

"My goodness dear, you look..." she fumbled for words.

"Can I please take Gwen and Lawrence's food up to them?" I asked, and I actually didn't feel any compunction for interrupting. She was probably grateful for it.

"Yes of course dear, but won't you have any? It's very hot, and very good. Fred was going to do it so...well all right I guess you can," she relented, since she had no choice as I scooped up the platter of stew, spoons, and slices of bread. I managed to reach the middle of the stairs right when the back door banged shut. I could not explain why but I still had that feeling than made me want to stay as far away from Fred as possible. It probably sounds ridiculous but I was afraid I wouldn't know what to say to him, and then I would blush and matters would be worse. My fears were probably completely baseless, but I couldn't help but act on them. Maybe tomorrow...

As I pushed open the door with my foot, Gwen glanced up at me and by her startled expression I knew I was the last person she expected to see standing there. The room was as I remembered it: dark, foul smelling, and a feeling of dread dwelling in every corner. I offered her a smile as I took in her wane features and unkempt appearance. Lawrence was sitting up, but seemed very restless as he tossed and coughed that wretched sounding cough. I realized why everyone had been distressed that morning when Fred had begun to cough into his milk; they were afraid of someone else ending up like Lawrence.

"I brought you dinner," I said, still trying to keep the smile in my voice. I don't think I succeeded very well.

"Thank you," replied Gwen sincerely. She took the platter and set it on the table by the bedside. Since I didn't want to go back down stairs I took the stool that sat on the other side of the bed, trying to avoid the contorted sweating face of Lawrence. Again, Gwen gave me a surprised glance, but didn't comment on my strange unexpected behavior. For that I was glad and encouraged.

I watched in silence as she hand fed the sick man, slowly and very patiently. The worry seemed to lift a little with each successful mouthful he took, and yet it descended when he coughed it up and shook his head, indicating he couldn't take much. Needless to say, her countenance didn't change much. When he had settled back and appeared to be sleeping Gwen took up her own bowl of stew. I looked around, hoping to find something of interest to talk about, the silence was crushing me. My eyes fell on her lap where a book lay open and a pen sat in the crease of the pages.

"What is that?" I asked, truly curious.

Gwen looked to where I was gesturing and a slight wistful smile flitted across her worn face. "This is my journal. I often don't have much to do in here, so I write in my journal when Lawrence doesn't need me."

"What could you possibly write about?" I wondered. Surely she didn't fill the pages with the progress or lack of progress from Lawrence. Even if he was her betrothed, the state he was in was not very interesting and would make a rather depressing topic for her book.

"Oh, different things," she said lightly. "I write what has happened in the day among the family, the renters, and even the town. Jess, Marta, Aspen, and Fred find occasions to pop in and tell me a tidbit of news." Her smile suddenly became not nearly as forced, and very grateful as she said, "For example, Jess told me what you did for us today, and I dedicated a full page to your graciousness. Thank you."

I fumbled out a pathetic "it's nothing" and was glad that the faint candle glow on the table did not reveal my blush. I don't think I had _ever_ had the description of _gracious_ applied to me in such a sincere way. My heart swelled and knew that Gwen had flattered me more than any of those endless mindless suitors who had tried. The most gratifying part was that I _knew_ I deserved it, and it felt wonderful.

"What else have you written?" I wasn't really asking for more praises, I was only curious to what she thought of other people. Gwen was the kind of person who would find something good in _every_ person, even Raphael, though I couldn't imagine what. However, I had to admit I wanted to know what else she thought of me. I confess I had not fully let go of my selfish side.

"Well, Aspen told me that Peter added three frogs, a snake, and five beetles to his collection of critters natural to our town."

I chuckled, giggled even as I imagined the threesome crawling through grass and water to find the wanted creatures. It was rather adorable.

Gwen also smiled and commented, "She has told me all about you watching them jump off the oak, and Fred said you were very helpful with gathering my bouquet, thank you for that as well. Peter threw in that you were a decent dancer; though I think Fred would disagree and say you were _excellent_."

I heard the teasing in her tone, and cast my eyes away. I did not want to think about that night. "Peter is rather decent at dancing as well," I made my voice purposefully light and careless. I suddenly thought about asking Gwen how Fred knew how to dance so well, and I looked up at her, my eyes suddenly very earnest. "I'll admit that Fred is both superbly and unexpectedly good as well, but I wonder how he gained that skill. Gwen, he was far better than many noblemen I've danced with in my life time, and yet I see no reason for him to have acquired that skill. Who taught him?"

Now it was Gwen's turn to look away, and I wondered at it. "Oh, well...you see I think his mother was a courtier and taught him. I'm not sure, though."

"Oh." It wasn't a bad answer, but for some reason I was expecting more. "How could she be a courtier and he only ended up an odd man?"

"He is the second son."

I was startled when Lawrence's rasping voice answered me. He hadn't moved, and his eyes were closed, but his breathing showed he was not asleep after all. Gwen put a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to silence him, but he did not heed it.

"His elder brother got the inheritance and he had to figure out what to do for himself. So he became an odd man. If you want to know more, ask him yourself." I don't know if he meant it, but his tone sounded harsh and cold. I was silent, feeling a strange hurt inside. Perhaps he was still wary of me because of all those rude things I had said to him and Fred so long ago. Or was it just a few weeks? I sighed.

"Lawrence," Gwen's gentle voice tried to hide any reproach as she said, "Ruth has been of great help to us. She has taken up many of my chores, so that I am able to care for you. Aspen has even put her in her favorite people list."

"Nearly everyone in the world is on that list," scoffed Lawrence and he suddenly began to cough roughly and violently. I turned away, trying to shut out the sound. Thank heavens I was a princess and not a doctor. For some reason I wanted to do something to show this man that I was _not_ the useless spoiled princess he thought I was. Perhaps, I _had_ been, but not anymore. However, I would not apologize. That was out of the question. I wondered if he knew I had been helping at his stand this whole time and contributing to his profit. I bit my lip. I would not tell him. He was too sick.

I smiled at Gwen, "Well, I suppose I should be going. I can take some dishes if you want." Her smile was thankful as she handed me a stack of dirty dishes. I winced at the smell, but only asked, "Will you get some sleep tonight?"

"I'm sure I will," she sighed as she wiped the man's forehead. He appeared to be drifting off, but I couldn't tell. "Don't worry about me."

Before I could answer a beam of candle light streamed into the room as the door opened and someone entered, and we both looked up. I could tell from the silhouette that it was Fred. I immediately averted my eyes, avoiding contact. I was still unsure if I wanted to associate with him at all. I was afraid I would be accosted by mysterious feelings in my gut that were so uncomfortable.

"I'm taking over tonight, Gwen," he declared softly. "You need a real rest. So go get started."

There was no room for objection in his tone so Gwen only told him, "He's basically asleep now, but if he wakes up, try feeding him some more."

She stood and bent over to bestow a soft kiss on her betrothed's cheek, then came around the bed, taking her journal with her. I stood to follow her out, but as we passed Fred, he held out a hand, stopping me. For a moment I was completely split between going out against his will, and staying to see what he had to say. The choice was decided for me when Gwen glanced back, smiled, took my load of dishes from me, and promptly shut the door behind her, leaving me in candlelit darkness with Fred and Lawrence. I had thought she was my friend!

"What is it?" I asked, it was almost a hiss, but not quite.

"Are you terribly tired?"

I thought about it. No, I remembered my wish to fly away to the stars and suddenly knew that this was a night when sleep would elude me. I wish I had been exhausted, but I did not lie. "No."

"Then stay." It wasn't a question, it wasn't a demand either. He said it as if it was the obvious solution to not being weary and ready for bed.

"Why?"

The flame on the wick wasn't near and it wasn't very bright, but I could see Fred's lips lifting his scratchy beard into a rather sheepish smile. "Well, I know you didn't eat dinner, and yesterday you had three of them, so I thought you might want a couple more."

I stared at him, utter confusion filling my face. Was he mad? In reply, he directed his eyes downward, and I followed his gaze. His hand was stretched out, holding out a plate of tarts. Tarts. Marta had declared that morning that they were all eaten the night before, and here this scoundrel had a whole plateful! He had snuck them away sometime and hidden them!

My eyes shot back up to his. "You took them!" I gasped.

"Shh...Don't tell anyone." Fred glanced towards the door. "Marta is a little suspicious, but hasn't said anything, so I'll get away with it."

I wanted to laugh. This man had just pillaged the kitchen and stolen the delicious tarts that Marta was so protective of. He looked like a nervous boy who had just emptied the cookie supply. It was completely ridiculous and somehow very endearing. I bit back my chuckle and shook my head in disbelief.

"You're ridiculous," I murmured, keeping the amusement out of it as best I could.

"Is that a 'no'? 'Cause I'd be more than happy to eat them all myself..." He started to withdraw the plate and before I knew it, I had snatched the top tart and bitten into it. Fred had had no time to react and the look on his face was priceless: completely astonished. Then his smile returned. "See, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist these. Now, you won't be able to tell Marta because you've taken part in the crime."

"So you admit to have committing a crime?" I asked, accusingly. I tsked.

He shrugged, moving away to chew on one of the treats and to sit where Gwen had been. "I figured it isn't all that bad since I helped earn the money for the supplies, _and_ I'm sharing. Therefore I am justified."

"I don't think Marta would agree with you." I licked my fingers and sat back down on my stool. If I was going to spend the night awake, I supposed I might as well spend it with tarts and Fred.

"I am glad I will not have to dispute it with her then." He passed me the plate and I took another, even though I was sure he did it only to silence my charges. I really was hungry. He regarded me for a moment, but I ignored him as I concentrated on keeping the crumbly pastry under control. I had to admit, these were some of the most scrumptious delicacies I'd ever had. Perhaps I could get her recipe and give it to the cooks in the palace.

He finally spoke, but his question was completely out of the blue: "You have sisters don't you?"

I glanced at him. What a random question. "Yes."

"Ah." He nodded, as if that explained something. "Loretta and Esther, am I correct?"

Again I gave him an odd look. "Yes. How did you know that?"

He smiled wryly. "I am not ignorant when it comes to royalty, miss. I have traveled many countries and make it a point to be familiar with their leaders and nobility. I entertained Lady Loretta once in her hall. Nearly a year ago."

It was very strange to think of Fred being a fool in Loretta's home, singing, and bantering with anyone who was stupid enough to get into an argument or discussion with him. Absently, I wondered what Loretta thought of him. It probably never entered her mind that the traveling jester would go on to hold her elder sister captive. Well, that was stretching it a bit but not too far from the truth. After all, I was not allowed to return home until Fred said I could. I sighed.

"Where does your family live?" The question startled both of us, but only Fred showed it. Inwardly I was perturbed at my own random inquiry, but if he were going to throw questions out, I decided it didn't hurt if I played the same game.

"In the capital, Darinsburg." He seemed just as reluctant to expound as I had about my sisters.

Before he could pin point me with another, I quickly shot another at him, "How did you come to be born here then?"

"That's an interesting story, actually," said Fred leaning back and regarding me with a small smile.

One of my brows rose. "Oh? Is that your opinion or has it been declared as fact?"

I had the pleasure of seeing him slightly chagrined as he corrected himself. "Well, my _mother _likes to tell it, so I suppose it's interesting. You can decide after I'm finished." He cleared his throat as if he were about to commence a great story. I nearly expected him to begin with _Once upon a time_ but he did not. "My parents were visiting relatives further south. Only my brother was born, but he was left at home with a nurse. On the way back to Darinsburg they happened to be in this town when my mother went into labor. It happened so quickly that they only had time to carry her to the nearest building, this one.

"Marta and Jess were newlyweds at the time and just taking over. I was born in the room I stay now, but there were difficulties and mother became ill. She was so sick that they were afraid to move her so I lived here the first full year of my life. Lawrence was born about the same time and it is said we shared the cradle." He smiled an odd smile then, as if it was supposed to be an ironic thing. "My mother and Marta became best of friends, so even while I grew up in the capitol I often came back here to visit. That is how I am so close with this family and why I call it my home town."

He waited for my response, and I was careful with it. "Well, it wasn't _completely_ dull," I told him condescendingly, giving a little sniff.

I should have guessed it was coming, but I didn't, and was startled by his burst of laughter. My first thought was that he had gone mad, and then I worried that he would wake the household, so I sent him a hissing "Ssshh!" that sounded a little desperate. It died down, but he continued to chuckle and shake his head.

"I hope you know that you're getting worse and worse at being sincerely scornful."

Then I allowed a small smile, remembering that I had sounded a little ridiculous. I had told the honest truth, but it was the _way_ I had said it that was so absurd. I gave a shrug and contented myself with nibbling on another tart.

"It doesn't fit you," he added, and his eyes sparkled in the candle light in a way they had never done before.

Suddenly my tummy felt like it did a summersault and I decided I had been eating too many tarts. I averted my eyes and cleared my throat, since I was sure there was an awkward silence there. Thankfully, a blessedly random question popped to my lips to fill the air. "So then it's you, your brother, and a sister?"

"That's right. My sister, Lily, was born about seven years after me, and that's it. I wished she had been a little brother, but she hasn't got a streak of adventure in her." He made a mildly disgusted face at that, but it quickly passed. "That's another reason Lawrence and I got on so well."

"How old are you?" I was slightly surprised at my own curiosity, but it was genuine so I didn't stop it.

He gave me a rather cocky look. "Twenty-three, you?"

I had a suspicious feeling that he knew very well how old I was, but wanted to rub it in and make me feel immature. Blushing (which I'm sure was a score in his direction), I unconsciously straightened a bit and said stoutly, "Nearly nineteen." A brief thought entered my mind that sensibly asked _why_ I was being defensive about my age in the first place, _why _should I care indeed? Strangely, this inquiry in my mind was not heeded as I did my best to look as mature as possible.

"Ah, that would explain it," said Fred, nodding with mock sagacity.

"Explain what?"

"Well, it is common knowledge that those still in the "teen" years have a greater difficulty in controlling their emotions."

I opened my mouth to loudly retort, but then shut it again before I could prove his point. Instead, I smiled sweetly at him and told him, "You must understand sir, we want to fully use our energy before we become..._aged_ and _decrepit _and _emotionless_."

He bristled at that. "Are you calling me old and dull?"

Ignoring him, I continued artlessly, "There are so many who would gladly stay in their "teen" years. People have made up myths about the living fountains that make you young forever. It is enjoyable being spry and able to do anything one wants. I confess, I feel sorry for those who have a _few_ years more than I, and can only hope to feel young when they associate with us young'uns." This last part I managed to pull off a decent Durantian accent that I had gotten used to from the older folk.

He had to chuckle at that, and I felt very pleased at having turned the tables. Strangely, he did not reply, and an abnormal quiet settled over us. It wasn't an awkward silence, and that was the strange part. We just sat in the dark room, occupied with our own thoughts, and our eyes not resting on anything in particular. Lawrence's breathing was that of a peaceful sleep uninterrupted by coughs or delirious dreams. I could hear the crickets outside the window and some muffled snoring down the hall.

I suddenly remembered that I did not want to feel comfortable in this man's presence, and that I was supposed to be horrified at being in this room alone with him. I also decided that I was too tired to really care or bother with it. It was too much work. My mind became puzzled and contorted with mixed emotions. I decided that if I just went to bed, then both sides of my mind would be content. So, I stood up and helped the crumbs roll off my skirt. The stains didn't show as distinctly in the candle light, but I felt a prick of consciousness at my poor attire, and all my thoughts from that afternoon came flooding back.

"Well," I sighed, breaking the silence and holding back the storm of recent memories. "I think I better get to bed if I want to work properly tomorrow."

"Yes," agreed Fred quickly. He seemed to have been shaken from his thoughts and was grateful for the interruption. "I guess you'd better." He paused then added, a bit hastily, "I don't think Jess will be going to the market tomorrow because he's waiting for another batch of pottery to be delivered. You sold them more quickly and more abundantly than was first estimated. Since you have a free day, you could come along with Minnie and me, if you want."

Without meaning to I thinned my eyes. Minnie again. "Where would you two be going?"

"Farmer Ben-Jamen is hosting a cherry picking day. He has a cherry orchard and they are ripe for plucking. Young people from everywhere get together and help him pick it all for storage. Then we have a huge potluck and dance. It's always a great celebration because Farmer Ben-Jamen knows how to put on a good party."

"Ben-Jamen?" I repeated. It sounded like Benjamin, except he separated it out and pronounced the "a" as short and said "men" instead of "min."

He shrugged. "That's what we call him. He's an upstanding man with lots of energy and knowledge. You'll like him."

I bit my lip with uncertainty. "What's a potluck?"

He smiled, and I think his mouth watered. "Lots and lots of delicious food. All the girls bring something and it turns into a huge feast. Ben-Jamen will supply the main dish, a roasted calf, but there are plenty of side dishes and desserts."

"But we just had a social yesterday!" I wasn't complaining, but I was surprised.

"You'll find that we Durantians like to play as hard as we work."

I wanted to go. I liked the idea of a party. I wanted to dance...maybe Fred would act normally at this one and I could learn some more dances. Instead of telling Fred all of this, I gave an uncaring shrug as if I were too tired or uninterested to really think about it. "I'll consider it."

"Good, we'll leave about mid morning. Be prepared to have your hands stained with cherry juice." He said this as though he knew very well that I was going. I nearly sighed with frustration, it was becoming harder and harder to act in front of him.

"Goodnight," I said and left, hardly waiting for him to return the farewell.


	18. It isn't Jealousy If

**Chapter 18: It Isn't Jealousy If You Never Wanted Him In The First Place**

I awoke before the rest of the household and assisted Marta with the cooking. Marta thanked me profusely in a very pleased manner, largely because it was the first time I had done so without being asked. It had become a nearly a routine thing to do, so I didn't see what the fuss was about. She chattered about nonsense while I fried up the bacon.

It was exceptionally good bacon, and the smell was making my mouth water. The back door opened as I began loading the heaps of sizzling meat onto a plate. I was about to snatch a tiny piece, when I happened to glance around and see Fred looking hungrily at it. Feeling rather protective I gave him a warning glare. Marta was teaching Aspen how to check if biscuits were done or not so he crept closer.

"Go away," I hissed at him. He set the bucket of milk on the counter and I popped an extra crispy piece into my mouth.

"I saw that," he whispered.

"So. I cooked it."

He came and stood right next to me, looking down at the plate. "That is a mighty fine batch of bacon you cooked, Ruthia," he said aloud. I felt his arm slide around me, as if he were going to sneak a bit away.

I turned, and slapped his hand with my fork. "Thief!"

He yelped and drew away, but to my horror I saw he had pilfered a piece with his other hand while I had driven away the other. I wanted to chase after him, and give him a good beating, but he was gone, laughing.

"Did he take one?" asked Marta.

I nodded, a little sullenly, still unhappy that he had falsely tricked me.

"You have to watch out for that one, he's a sneaky one. He knows all the tricks." She shook her head and made a clucking noise. "I usually catch him, but I have a sneaky suspicion that he managed to take a couple extra tarts the other day."

I laughed within myself, as I remembered last night's treat. Perhaps I could forgive him.

When breakfast was coming to an end Jess pushed back his chair and wiped his mouth. Fred began to help Marta clear the table. I was ready to go upstairs and take a much needed bath before leaving with Fred, but was stopped by Jess when he said he had something for me.

"First and foremost, Ruth, you may on no condition refuse. Do you understand?"

"That is hardly a fair agreement, since I don't even know what it is."

He plopped a small bag on the table before me and it clinked with coins. My eyes widened at first, and then I glared suspiciously at him. Of course my primary thought was to staunchly refuse, even keep my hands clenched if need be. Then, another thought struck me. I smiled brightly, took the bag and jumped up.

"Thank-you, Sir Jess! You are most kind!" I even went as far as to give him a quick hug before running upstairs. I smiled with satisfaction remembering his shocked face.

"I didn't even tell her it was her salary," I heard him say to no one in particular, his tone completely flabbergasted. "Strange girl, that one."

I had never washed myself so quickly in my life. I was in such a hurry that I was sure I missed spots, but I was too excited to worry about it. Marta came in later and brought out the green dress that I had first arrived in. It was in a restored condition and looked nicer than I remembered, and it fit wonderfully. After thanking her I hurried out the door. In my haste I nearly ran into Minnie who was trying to tie a ribbon in her hair.

I suppose I was in such a hurry that I was not thinking straight. In any case I took one look at her attempts and declared, "Let me do it."

Before she could protest or show surprise, I grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Deftly and swiftly I tied a bow into the thick, light brown tresses. She had lovely hair, with golden streaks from the sun, and it came down in long waves. I told her so, and because I was embarrassed at my unexpected behavior, and because I was in a hurry, I tripped down the stairs. Still, I managed to treasure her shocked expression and stuttered thanks in my mind.

"Fred!" I called, and absently noticed that my feet were doing some sort of quick dance. When I was little I would do that when I was filled with a flurry of nervous excitement. He was in the kitchen helping Aspen with the dishes.

Ignoring Aspen's compliments I asked a little breathlessly, "Can you wait a little before going to Farmer Ben-Jamen's? It shouldn't take more than an hour."

He hid his astonishment and only said with great puzzlement, "What do you need to do?"

"I need to go to the market."

"Now?" He didn't look very happy, and I was afraid he was going to refuse.

Without thinking I touched his arm. "Please, Fred? It's really important."

I could have been gloating at the fact that I had just confounded the clever man with this simple request, but I was thinking no such thing. He blinked quickly, gave a helpless shrug, and his signature grin.

"All right. We have a couple hours before things start to get busy over there, anyway."

I smiled, appreciatively. "Good. I'll be back as soon as I can." I turned, ready to skip out the door, but he grabbed my hand. I felt frustration as I faced him again.

"I'm going with you," he told me.

"But…Oh, very well, suit yourself." I knew it was useless to argue with him sometimes. Still, it was a little annoying to know he wanted to follow me everywhere. Annoying and yet flattering.

* * *

"So what do you need to get that's so important?" wondered Fred as I searched the stalls for the right one. The day was bright, sunny, and getting hotter by the minute. I wished it would rain. I sent him a pointed look.

"Really, Fred, you ought to know that it is very rude for gentlemen to inquire after the shopping list of a lady. Didn't your experience at courts teach you this?"

He considered this. I could tell he wasn't sure if what I wanted was some womanly mystery, or if I was simply evading his question. Luckily, I saw the needed shop and stepped up to it. Fred watched silently as I peered at each product, looking for just the right one. I faced the shopkeeper, a middle aged woman who kept business while her husband worked in back

"What is the cost for that one?" I pointed at the desired item and she told me the price. I had enough. I dumped out the right amount of coins and handed them to her with a thank you. I avoided Fred's very confused gaze as I tucked the purchase into the bag and began to look for another stall.

"A cup?" Fred's voice was incredulous. "You made that big fuss about a tea cup?"

I continued walking, keeping eyes up and ahead. "One of the reasons a gentleman must never pry into the shopping affairs of a lady is because he would not understand even if he did know."

Fred did not appreciate my womanly wisdom because his face was still screwed up with puzzlement and he even scratched his head under his hat. I did not want to tell him about the previous morning where my anger had damaged Marta's property and I knew I had to pay it back. I knew he would be far too triumphant, and I rather liked seeing him so befuddled.

"Well, all right, but if you're spending money at the moment, you might as well pay off the silk."

I stopped dead in my tracks at that suggestion. I had forgotten all about the silk merchant. If I gave Fred the required amount it was possible that I would not have enough for the item I wanted. Pricing and values were still a new thing to me, but I knew it was a risk that I wasn't sure if I wanted to take.

"I was planning to get something else." My voice reminded me of a reluctant, yet guilty child.

"You mean you were planning to dig yourself deeper into debt?" asked Fred pointedly. "I know it's not much, but if you are unwilling to pay off the money you owe, then it will only get worse."

I knew he was right, and I hated it. Still, I did not allow my emotions to show as I tossed him the bag. I had come to decide it was better to keep my feelings, especially negative ones, to myself instead of allowing the whole world know of my heart and mind. I felt I had more privacy that way. "Oh, very well. Have it your way. Take as much as you want and I'll wait."

The excitement I felt only moments ago, drained away as he depleted most of my store. Sometimes, it was so hard to be a good upstanding citizen. Before he left, Fred placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and it reminded me of a caring older brother, though I had never had one.

"Don't worry," he said. "You're doing the right thing."

I didn't say anything, though I did feel very much like a child as I watched his tall, confident figure weave its way through the crowd. Trying to tell myself it didn't matter, and that I would get more money eventually, I stepped into a different part of the street, hoping to find something that would occupy my mind.

A lively tune tripping through the air caught my attention and I saw a small crowd at the corner of the far street. Curious, and drawn by the music, I approached the small group of musicians. I had seen them before, but now their melody was different. It seemed familiar.

I was nearly astounded when I felt my feet trying to tap in rhythm to the notes. I glanced around at the grime covered peasants. This was no place to try to dance with the music. What perturbed me is that I was not prone to break out into dance randomly. At least, I didn't think so. My mother's face came to mind, and I was more startled. I thought about her kindness and gracefulness again, and somehow the memories intertwined with the melody perfectly. The song ended and I stood in the street, feeling very bewildered. I felt as though I should remember something that I could not.

I decided to forget about the whole incident and was partly relieved; partly disappointed when I caught sight of the stall I had been looking for earlier. The counter had various articles, but it was the small display of leather bound books that held my interest. There were three of them, one had a gold trim around it, one was of a black material, and one was just plain brown leather. I wasn't sure which one I liked best, but I was sure it didn't matter because I was not getting one, and they might be gone by the time I was ready.

Still, I picked the plain one up and felt the soft cover. Absently I wondered what animal it was made of. The paper was not as fine as the books at the castle, but it was sturdy and of a lovely tan shade. I saw the tiny initials of the creator imprinted on the inside of it. I wondered how long it took to make such a precious item, and knew the maker would want a fair price.

This time, I was not startled when Fred came to stand beside me, but I was quick to put the journal down and pretend to be studying everything on the board, as if I were just trying to pass the time. To my dismay and irritation Fred picked up the very diary I had, and examined it. I was sure I had tucked it under the others before he had had a chance to see what I was doing, but apparently he had still seen.

"This is the one you wanted?"

For a moment I considered keeping my lips sealed, but it didn't last long. "I don't know. It's lovely." I paused then asked, "Do you know from which animal the skin is made of?"

He glanced at me, surprise flittering across his face. "Well, it's not rabbit, if that's what you're worried about."

I rolled my eyes. "I know that. I would not have touched it if it were."

He smiled and returned his attention to the book. The more I looked at it, the more I liked it, and the more I wished I had more money. Surely I was being pathetic, a princess wishing she had more money to buy a bundle of yellowed paper and leather. I really had been brought low. Still, I would not deny that I found the journal very desirable.

"I guess it's deer," Fred told me. "It's a bit too soft to be cow, unless it was a calf." He glanced to see my reaction, but I gave none. I had given up long ago on being disturbed at the thought of the death of young cute animals. It was part of life, and nothing to squawk about.

I put my own hand on it and then pulled them back. I was going in too far. I held the bag with the cup in both hands and stepped away from the counter. "Well, we've wasted enough time already. We should be getting back. Minnie will be wondering."

"Wait," instructed Fred. He took the journal and placed it in front of the merchant. I watched in astonishment as he plunged his hands into his pockets and produced a handful of silver coins. He chatted with the trader and gave him the needed money. With a few parting words he turned back to me, and I could see he was trying to hold back his smile.

"Here," he said carelessly, and placed the plain leather book into my amazed hands.

It took me a moment to realize that he was walking away and that I really had the journal in my hands. I ran quickly to catch up to him and thankfully he slowed his long legs to let me walk comfortably, yet fretfully at his side.

"Why did you get this for me?" I demanded.

"You wanted it." His reply was so simple, I knew there was more.

"So. I want lots of things, but you certainly haven't given them to me. That is not a sufficient answer and you know it." He remained silent. "If I didn't know any better I would say you were trying to spoil me. I know that can't be right, because you think I'm already spoiled."

"I don't think that." He sounded a little weary, but I did not back down. I felt as though I might get a little closer to what he was thinking about…everything.

"You don't? Then why all the lectures about the quality of hard work and getting what you earned? Why do you laugh and shake your head whenever I act like a spoiled child? I think you have contradicted yourself."

He stopped and faced me suddenly. We had left the market area, but were still a distance from the boarding house. I felt my fervor fading away as he nearly glared at me. It could not be a glare because Fred did not glare, but it was obvious he was not appreciative of my bombarding inquiries. I felt myself gulp almost nervously as I kept my eyes steady against his own flashing blue-grey ones.

"How about if you just say thank you and accept it, all right, Ruthia?"

I remained silent. It was well hidden and almost indiscernible but I could detect the desperation and pleading note in that statement. I realized that he did not know exactly why he had given me the gift, only that he had done it. Somehow, I felt as though this was a victory point for me. He was not so untouched by mixed emotions after all. I strangely felt relieved.

Suddenly I gave him a bright smile. "Thank you, Fred! This journal really means a lot to me, and I'm so happy you got it for me." Without relishing anymore in his stunned expression I turned and began to nearly skip towards the house. If I could confuse him, I would do it more often.

I thought this, even though I knew there was another reason besides my wanting to mess with his head and bring myself triumphant satisfaction. However, I had to admit; very deep down, that I was also doing it because as strange as it might sound I considered Fred to be a friend, and that made it all sincere. I had never really had a friend, making it all the more reason for me to brush away such ridiculous ideas. It was not a likeable idea, but the thought was actually comforting. _That didn't make a bit of sense, Ruthia_, I told myself. Well, I wasn't about to bother with trying to sort my thoughts from ideas and again from feelings. That was too much trouble.

We returned to the house to find Marta and Jess insisting we take Gwen along with us. They were very firm about it, and I was sure that is was because Lawrence was worse and they did not like to see her worry so much. I took the chance to braid my now dry hair and tie a ribbon at the end. It ended up a little crooked, but I didn't mind, and I think Fred liked it. Fred did not notice Minnie's perturbed longing glances. We managed to chat amiably, without Minnie and I having to address each other directly the whole time. Fred and Gwen were very much aware of the gap between us, but thankfully they didn't say anything.

There were so many young people already gathered at the copse, as though they'd come from miles around. There were an equal number of boys and girls, with ages ranging from fifteen to mid twenties. I didn't see anyone older than that, and I was sure that it was for that reason so many had come. The orchard was large and I could see baskets and baskets throughout it being filled with cherries by chattering figures.

An unexpected turn of events occurred then, which left me feeling very ornery towards Fred the fool, though it didn't make sense. I was quick to decide that I liked cherry picking. Fred told me I could eat one every twentieth one, and I resolved to pick as many as was possible. The cherries were fat and sweet and bright, and I was in a good mood. I climbed the ladder and dropped cherry after cherry into the basket below me. Minnie, Gwen, and Fred were working on the same tree as I, at first. Minnie wandered off towards from some friends, and after about twenty minutes I realized there were others at our tree.

"Fred!" a female voice made me peek through the leaves down at the ground. A girl in a red dress was looking up at Fred with obvious flirtation. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Hello, Bri," greeted Fred. He stepped down from the ladder, a ready grin on his face. "I guess that's expected when you miss the biggest dance of the year."

She sighed regretfully. "I am seeing my mistake, but Luna was calving that night and Papa needed my help."

"Did everything go all right?"

The girl, Bri if that was her nickname, beamed. "Yes, she gave birth to a fine bull. He is one of the biggest I've ever seen. You'll have to come by and take a look. Luna is as proud as can be."

I became disinterested as they went on to talk about cows, but strangely I felt some of my good mood slip away.

"Fred!"

I rolled my eyes when another doe-eyed lass approached, twirling some golden locks.

"I expected to see you here at the crack of dawn."

I doubted _she_ was awake at the crack of dawn.

"I came when I was sure there would be fine company," Fred told her, causing her to blush and let her head grow larger than necessary. "I see you have finished the dress you told me about. It looks lovely."

The maiden averted her eyes to the hideous yellow dress she was wearing and her hands fluttered to the skirt. "You like it? It took a while to make, since the pattern was very hard."

"It was definitely worth it," assured Fred. "You are a very talented seamstress. Why if I had half the skill you possessed, I would be not have to be an odd man!"

It wasn't very funny, but the girls giggled none the less as though it were the wittiest thing they'd ever heard. I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate on the cherries, but my high spirits were gone. These flirts were the very motive to my scorning the male race. I hated the way they threw themselves at them and had resolved to do the complete opposite, hence my sharpness, and other reasons besides.

I was rather disappointed with Fred, too. I had thought he was above the flirtations, but apparently, he was quite the expert and relished being the center of attention to all these country maidens. Well, he could talk about their cows and dresses, I didn't care.

When a third damsel glided into the group I moved away, unable to stand anymore, but still irritatingly aware of the teasing, compliments, and laughter that was so near. As I steamed with annoyance I did not notice the man who approached me. I was slightly startled when I saw he had picked up the heavy basket I had filled and had replaced it with an empty one. He was older, but was still handsome, with a grey head of hair and a square jaw.

His smile was friendly and pleasant. "'Ello, miss. I don't think I've seen you around 'ere before. Wat's your name?"

"Ruth."

Sticking out a worn hand he replied, "I'm Ben-Jamen, welcome to my farm and tanks for comin'. I always like to see young people workin' 'ard. It makes me right 'appy, it does. Are you findin' the cherries good?"

Despite the disappearance of my good mood, I shook his hand and nodded. "They are delicious, sir. You have a lovely orchard."

He cocked his head at me and commented, "Your talk reminds me of the nobility. Are you the lassie that Freddy brought back from Luzcando? The pretty princess?"

I wanted to chuckle at his term for Fred, but sighed instead. So, I was in the gossip mill, lovely. It did not pass my notice that he had referred to me as a "pretty princess" as he would refer to any other girl, completely ordinary. I suppose he had had enough time to come to terms with the fact that one of the most beautiful princesses in the land was in his town. "Yes, sir I am."

"Fine fellow, that Freddy." He nodded with approval and turned his gaze in the direction of Fred and his throng. "Look at 'im. Pays particular attention to each lady, 'e does. You 'ave to admire 'im for that. Not many can do it, nowadays, but 'e does it right proper, 'e does."

"I don't follow," I said honestly, and a little coldly. Glancing around, I knew Fred was not the only one being friendly with the girls, but he was the only one with a crowd.

"Well, most laddies talk to the gals 'cause it makes 'em feel better. It feeds their ego and they like stealin' the attention of the pretty ones. Freddy don't do that."

"He doesn't?" Again, my tone was not very agreeable.

"Nah, 'e gives _'em_ attention, and don't take it. If you were to ask any one of those gals wat 'is favorite color was, or wat project 'e was workin' on, they wouldn't know. But Freddy knows all their birthdays. 'E knows wat they like best in life. 'E knows their family and 'obbies. 'E makes 'em feel good about themselves. That's why 'e's always got a gaggle 'round 'im. Yep, Freddy is a fine fellow."

Farmer Ben-Jamen turned away from staring at Fred and his activities and said, "Well, I just wanted to say 'ello and tank you. I 'ope you stay for the dance." He hefted the basket back up in his arms and strode off, calling out greetings to those around him. I was rather surprised, and suspicious that he would talk about such things to me, when I had barely met him, though I had been the one to prompt him on. Therefore, I did my best to put his words from my mind.

I grew tired of plucking the fruit from the trees and more so of the chatter that was happening without me. Gwen had gone to the kitchen to help with the potluck. I was not in a cooking mood, but I went there anyway.

There were even more girls here, all bustling about in the vast area of the kitchen. It was too early for aromas to be drifting out, but I knew they were cooking up a storm. One fellow was hanging about the doorway, and appeared to be pleading with a lady within.

"Ah, come on, Gerta! Just give me one little bite. I just wanna see if it's poisoned or not."

"Why would I poison it?" inquired a very indignant girl of about fifteen who stood in the doorway with a bowl in her arms. She was blushing, so I knew she was fond of the lad, who on closer inspection appeared to be not much older.

"Yeah, well my sister might."

Gerta laughed. "She wouldn't do that."

"She's jealous of your cooking skills. She could."

"Where would she get poison?"

"I don't know. Maybe there's an herb out there that can knock the life out of a fellow within seconds. You never know."

Gerta caught sight of me as I came up, slowly. I wanted to hear their conversation. She began stirring the contents of the bowl. "Get out of here, Rikki. You're ridiculous, and are getting in the way of progress."

He followed her glance and looked at me. I was surprised when his eyes didn't linger and he turned back to Gerta, "Is that Progress?"

I was beside them now. Gerta laughed, and gave him a playful shove. "No, you silly!" She smiled apologetically at me. "He'll leave, I promise."

Rikki gave me a grin, but addressed Gerta, "Aye, I'll leave, but I'll be back. Your sausages will be ready then, won't they?"

Gerta only smiled and turned back into the kitchen. Rikki, a silly grin on his young face, gave me a slight nod and sauntered off. I forgot my annoyance and slight disappointment at his lack of attention to me, reminding myself that not _every_ male out there fell in love with me on first sight. Besides, I smiled; it was obvious he had his eyes on someone else.

There was something else about the innocent conversation between the two friends that was not so easy to pinpoint. It was obvious they were both very fond of each other, though I don't think they were aware of it. The whole thing seemed very…familiar. Strange thoughts were no stranger to me, and I knew what to do with them. I shoved them to the back of my mind and focused on the task at hand.

Gwen was also stirring ingredients in a bowl, and there was flour on her cheek. I wiped it off and asked what she was making.

"Pudding. More girls are going for the more substantial side dishes, so I decided I had better make sure there was a good traditional desert on the table. What are you up to?"

I gave an absent shrug. "Nothing."

"Go out and help pick cherries."

"I don't feel like it." I paused before adding, "I don't know anyone out there."

"What about Fred?"

"He's wholly occupied."

"Ah, have the girls discovered him?"

I nodded; perhaps I looked glum because Gwen placed a hand on my arm.

"Is everything all right? You can still talk to him, you know. He won't ignore you."

I didn't know that. I only knew that I did not feel the same as when I had first arrived. Since my emotional spill to Jess the day before I had decided I didn't mind confiding my thoughts to others. "I don't want to join the crowd and become one of _them_."

"They are all nice girls."

"Too nice."

Gwen smiled knowingly. "You don't like the fact that Fred gives them so much attention, and they give so much to him? Is that it?"

"I'm not jealous!" I said intensely. I did not want to give her the wrong idea.

"No," agreed Gwen with a thoughtful yet sly expression. "It isn't jealousy if you never wanted him in the first place."

I stared at her. She was teasing, of course, but I was still a little affronted that she would think I wanted the fool. He could be pleasant to be around, and I admitted I was enjoying his company, but that did not mean I _sought after_ his presence. No, no. That was ridiculous.

Gwen appeared to have read my expression because she advised, "Don't be bothered by it. Go out and have fun, yourself. Go meet some new people. I'm sure there are plenty of young men who would love to make your acquaintance. You don't have to worry about their decency because Farmer Ben-Jamen is known to exclude all ruffians from his gatherings. They are mostly honorable sons of farmers. Go, go on!"

It was reasonable advice and as I thought about it, I decided it wouldn't hurt at all. Why should Fred have all the fun? I was sure I could get twice the size of his paltry lot. Smiling with satisfaction, I left the kitchen in search of some unsuspecting young men. I wasn't going to get any of their hopes up. I wasn't cruel. I would just play with them a little, just like Fred was playing with the girls.

It turned out to be a lot different than I expected.


	19. New Names, Same Game

**This is a favorite. :) And I assure you Fred will eventually be explained.**

**Chapter 19: New Names, Same Game**

Since I found men to be despicable, I had no experience with flirting with them, and had to think a bit before approaching one. I decided to compliment a young man on his picking abilities. He had not been associating with others, but was set on diligently stripping the trees of their ripe fruit. At the sound of my voice he looked down, startled. He was barely my own age, and had a pleasant round face with wide shy eyes.

"Oh, uh… thanks," he muttered.

"You gotta say more than that, Zeke!" retorted a new voice.

I looked to the other side of the tree and saw Rikki, the boy from the kitchen. He tossed a cherry at Zeke's head and said, "You gotta offer to teach her some of your skills. You have to smile and compliment her hairdo. Girls like that."

I wanted to laugh. This lad was a regular charmer! Apparently he had taken it upon himself to teach his fellows the way to chat with a lady.

Zeke blushed hotly, and sent me an apologetic glance. "You can jus' ignore him."

"No, no," I said. "He's quite right. You _should_ teach me some of your skills."

That shocked him even more. I think he was expecting me to turn my attention to Rikki, who would be the obvious choice for any girl. Although the younger lad appealed to me, I found I wanted to play with this shy fellow. Besides I had not forgotten about Gerta.

"Well, you jus' concentrate really hard on what you're doin' and then it'll jus' happen on its own. Sometimes it's easier to climb up into the tree too, but I'm too big for that." He gave me a timid glance over. "You could probably get up there fine."

"I'm in a skirt."

"That don't matter," declared Rikki. "Gerta does it all the time, and has always been as proper as ever! We never see anything at all!"

What a brash young man! I was tempted to glare at him, but was too busy considering the possibility. At home in my garden I had climbed plenty of trees before, especially when no one was watching. The best fruit was at the top, and the servants never could get the perfect ones. Smiling with readiness, I agreed and Zeke stepped down from the ladder. I was up in the branches in a matter of moments and sat myself on a sturdy branch where I could see dozens and dozens of rich cherries.

"Are you ready to catch them?" I called down to the two boys who were gawking. I began plucking as fast as I could without losing my balance and letting them fall. The boys had a great time doing their best to catch them before they hit the ground. When I repositioned myself, I saw two more new boys.

"Who's the girl?" inquired one.

"I don't know, but she shimmied up that tree like a cat with a dog on its tail," explained Rikki. "She's right pretty, too."

"Prettier than Gerta?" They grinned, obviously impressed that Rikki would find someone else more attractive than the girl he liked.

He laughed. "No one's prettier than Gerta!"

Though it was a slight against me, I felt my heart warm.

When there were no more ripe cherries I carefully dropped back down to the grass below, and felt very pleased as all the young men studied me with mouths agape. There was a girl there too, who looked so much like Rikki, that she could only be a sister. To my surprise, but not horror, she was wearing trousers instead of a skirt. Her black hair was pulled back into a sloppy braid, and she was grinning at me with open friendliness. Before any of the boys could approach me, she came right up and put a rather firm hand on my shoulder.

"That's the way to do it! I like to see a girl show the boys up. What's your name?"

"Ruth." I felt a little uncomfortable at her manner, since it was obvious she was a rather boyish sort.

"Hiya Ruth!" exclaimed the boys, and I smiled. Everyone was introduced and hence I was included into the strangest group of young people I'd ever met. Rikki and Annette (his twin sister) were clearly the leaders of the crew, but they did not dominate. Everyone had a chance to tell a story or joke, and it was always roundly appreciated. I found myself laughing and chatting with them all, and basically having a wondrous time.

It didn't take long for me to learn that Zeke was hopelessly in love with the tom-boy Annette, but would never say anything of it because she was the most unromantic person I could have dreamed of. They were all the children of farmers, and looked forward to carrying on the tradition. I learned a great deal more about crops, cattle, and dirt than I would have liked, but they talked so enthusiastically about it, that they made it seem interesting.

They did not know I was a princess and I was careful to keep it that way. In fact, they knew nothing about me, except that I could climb trees as well as Annette even though I was a lady, I was beautiful, and I had a lovely laugh. This latter part was told to me by Zeke, who, after much prompting from Rikki, admitted it in shy tones. I was truly touched by his sweet sincerity. Sometimes they tried to ask me questions, but I was always vague and was swift to shower them with questions about themselves, which they were quick to oblige to.

Gerta joined us when it reached midday and I smiled when I saw her discretely slip Rikki a sausage wrapped in a kind of bread. Gerta was a sweet girl, and reminded me a lot of Aspen. I was beginning to think of all these young people in endearing terms and thought myself very justified since I was older than most. This did not stop some of the lads from grinning and winking at me, however. I never gave them any sort of encouragement, making sure I treated each strictly as I would a younger sibling, if I had ever had a younger brother.

Eventually we stopped picking, and I discovered we had ended up at the far edge of the orchard, where there were few workers. It was a very hot day, so I was glad to just sit in the shade and listen to what everyone had to say. Our group had dwindled and grown periodically, but there were still nearly a dozen of us.

I confess that I even forgot about Fred, and the strange feelings I had had before. It wasn't until he appeared in our circle that I remembered. He had a girl at his side that looked like Annette, surely another sibling, since I learned there were about a dozen of them. The work had died down, and many of us were sitting down, enjoying the shade and eating cherries. I was quick to avoid his gaze, but he addressed me nevertheless.

"You're flushed," he noted. "And happy! Whatever happened?"

I wanted to punch his arm, but Annette beat me to it.

"Hi, Fred!" declared Annette giving him a solid thump in the arm. "This is Ruth, and you should be nice to her. Zeke convinced her to pick cherries for him and now she's the best."

"I did not!" protested Zeke, blushing at the idea of him trying to pass on his work to a girl.

Annette nudged him in the ribs causing him to redden further. "I'm kidding, Zeke!"

"I know Ruth. She's been living at the boarding house for the past few weeks."

"Really?" wondered Annette. I could not help but notice with satisfaction that the black haired lass at his elbow also raised her brows, only she did not look so pleased. "You've been hiding her from us all this time? You really are a selfish brute. She's great fun and is one of the nicest people I've ever met." She glanced over at Rikki and added with a grin, "Except for Gerta of course, but I have to say that because she'll be my sister-in-law someday."

She dodged Rikki's kick. Gerta's dark blush reminded me of cherry juice.

Fred did well to hide his shock, behind a chuckle, but I still felt a surge of triumph and yes, pride at Annette's praising words. It felt good to have his first impressions of me soundly contradicted by a girl who had barely met me. Perhaps he did not know me as well as he liked to think. I waited for his response, curious to hear what he'd say, but his companion spoke then.

"You haven't picked much," she commented to Annette.

"You haven't seen much," Annette shot back. Yep, they were definitely sisters. "Farmer Ben-Jamen and Zeke have already hauled off eight baskets. Pray tell how many have _you_ managed to fill in your spare time, Harry?" She glanced meaningfully at Fred.

"My name is _Harriet_," snapped Harriet, or Harry as Annette called her. I smiled.

Gerta addressed her before more sisterly love could ensue. "Rikki was telling me of your new interest in the soldiers who come by. Where do they come from?"

So, with Gerta's peacemaking skills, Harriet's interest was immediately averted. Zeke asked Fred about his work, and Fred proceeded to tell him and the others about his most recent activities, including acting like a fool, rescuing me from my kidnapper, and confronting the dragon. He did not mention anything about my being a princess, the contest, or the contract, and for that I was immensely thankful. The whole group was thoroughly awed. If I hadn't been there and completely furious with him the whole time, I suppose I would have been impressed as well.

"There was actually a dragon at that castle?" wondered Zeke in complete surprise. "I always thought that was jus' a story. So you killed it?"

"Well," here Fred looked a little sheepish. "I didn't _kill_ him."

"You didn't?" many exclaimed, including me. Well! If he hadn't even won the contest, why had that contract been made in the first place?

"I defeated it. I didn't kill it." He was talking to everyone, but I knew he was addressing me. "I wounded it sufficiently so it was completely subdued and I was able to cut the nails off. That's all I wanted, for proof."

"You have its nails?" wondered Annette. "Can I come by and see them? I've never seen dragon nails before, and maybe I might buy some from you."

"To use for your witch brews?" sniggered Rikki. This time Gerta slapped his arm in reproach, while Annette only stuck her tongue out at him, which I thought was quite unnecessary.

"You can look at them," agreed Fred, "But they are Ruthia's."

"_You_ make witch's brews?" exclaimed Rikki, staring at me with faked astonishment. Gerta and Annette both rose to my defense by tossing sticks and grass at him. I wrinkled my nose at him, still reeling in surprise from Fred's statement. But of course, they were mine. In order for that contract to be in existence he had to have provided me proof for the deed of his worthiness. I felt my cheeks warm slightly. All that seemed so far away and unreal. I didn't like to think about it all because it just didn't make sense in regard to the current situation between Fred and me.

"Hey, I have an idea!" declared Rikki in an effort to stop Annette's and Gerta's persisted attacks. "I brought my fiddle, and I made sure Zeke grabbed his drum. Did you bring your flute, Fred?"

Fred indicated the pipe that hardly left his side. "I brought my guitar, too."

"I can borrow Farmer Ben-Jamen's harp!" declared Gerta, easily excited.

"Excellent! Let's add some music to this place!" Rikki's idea was caught on by everyone, and several more young people approached our section of the orchard as we settled on the grass and logs. Gerta and Zeke returned and the musicians began to carefully tune their selected instruments. I didn't mean to look it, but I was honestly quite fascinated. I had heard Fred play before, but that was by himself, and…well…not always so impressively.

One of the girls requested a song known only as the Blue bell song, and the four of them started off. Fred had the main part and it was a tune that one would want to dance to. Add the effect of Rikki's quick fingers, Gerta's quiet part, and Zeke's occasional drumming, and I had the sudden urge to get up and go skipping around the listeners and trees. But I could not.

Annette felt no such restriction and began to do a little jig that obviously needed a partner because one of the boys took her hand and did it with her. Zeke watched her the whole time. I made it a point to observe each of the musicians. It was rather enchanting to see how their bodies slightly swayed to the melody as if they had become part of the song. Fred's foot was tapping consistently with the beat, and Rikki bobbed his head with relish.

When they were finished I joined with the rest in giving them a loud applause. Fred grinned at me as he put his flute down, and I had a nervous suspicion that he was about to do something I would not particularly like. I was right. When other songs were tossed around the group to consider for the next one, Fred spoke above the rest and his idea caught the interest of all.

"I learned a neat tune when I was in Luzcando. Apparently it's like their anthem and everyone there knows it." His eyes settled on me. "If Ruthia is willing, I will play while she sings."

Why that wretched…

"That sounds fabulous!" declared Annette. "Fabulous is my new fancy word. Do you like it?"

"I can't sing!" I protested, but it was lost in the encouraging cries of those around me. They all seemed bent on hearing the Luzcandian song, and they would not take no for an answer. Rikki assured me they all sounded like frogs, and it wouldn't make a difference to them. That did alleviate my distress. Fred was doing his best not to laugh, but I knew he was enjoying the embarrassing predicament he had placed me in. I gritted my teeth and tried to think of a way to get him back later.

I knew the song. I would not be able to call myself Luzcandian if I did not know the song by heart. However, I had not sung it since I was a child, and I was not looking forward to show off my singing voice before these farmers who would surely clap politely at the end.

Annette made Harriett move so I could sit beside Fred's stump. I don't think Harriet or I appreciated that. I sent Fred a furtive glare, but he only winked insolently. He had traded his flute for the strange lute type instrument he had brought along and he strummed it gently. I liked the rich sound it made, but was too busy controlling butterflies to truly appreciate it.

He played the first few chords, and although I recognized it, I did not make a peep. He did it again, and again I just sat there, fully aware that everyone was looking expectantly at me. The third time he made the introduction longer and hummed so softly that only I could hear him. For some odd reason his humming brought noise into my lungs and out of my mouth. I wasn't loud, but it was a start, and I gradually increased in volume.

_Fair woods and distant fields_

_Our silver rivers flow_

_Down where the harvest yields_

_Mountains high, valleys low_

_Breezes sigh_

_Birds will fly,_

_This is where I am home_

_Land of light and of love_

_Filled with bright summer skies_

_Take me there, keep me there_

_Where the light never dies_

The silence of the orchard seemed very intense, and the music from Fred's guitar magnified ten times. I refused to look anyone in the eye and tried to focus on a particularly bright cherry in one of the trees.

_Streets filled with colors bright,_

_Hearts stilled in Mama's songs._

_Minds thrilled by life's great light_

_Hands build to right all wrongs_

_Laughing child_

_God has smiled_

_This is what I call home_

_Land of light and of love_

_Filled with bright summer skies_

_Take me there, keep me there_

_Where the light never dies_

_See her to safety_

_Bring her the honor_

_Keep her pure beauty_

_Heap goodness on her_

_Preserve us_

_Be gracious_

_This is how I stay home_

I didn't mean to, but before I started the last chorus, I poked Fred subtly in the leg. I didn't like singing by myself, and I guess I wanted company. Thankfully, Fred took my hint and added a soft murmuring tenor that somehow sounded better than it had when he sang in my father's court. I didn't stop to think how _he_ would know Luzcando's anthem. He was just odd like that.

Of course they liked it. During the song, I had decided that with Fred's playing and last minute singing it had been worthy of a great crowd. I felt a surge of pride, knowing that I had represented my country well. Surely, these Durantians could not do better. I smiled and blushed, however, as they kept clapping and praising the beauty and clarity of my voice and the song. I had not expected it when I first started it, but it felt natural now, and I silently thanked my mother for giving me her singing voice.

They played more songs after that, ones that included all the instruments and allowed for sing-alongs from the whole group. I just clapped my hands in the appropriate parts, since I didn't know any of them. Harriett was silly enough to sing a solo, even though I'm sure she knew she wasn't nearly as good as I was, as everyone else well knew. I took pleasure in the fact that we never traded seats again, despite the fact that Fred was again the main musician and graciously sang with her. I shared a secret smile with Annette as she subtly stuck some grass in her ears to show her dislike.

"All right, ya'll," Farmer Ben-Jamen's drawl broke in the midst a particularly lively tune. We all looked up at him, many trying to look as innocent as possible. "I'd say it was just about time to 'ave a break, but looks like you've already taken it."

Immediately shouts of protest and explanations rose. They all had their excuses, but the prominent one that turned into a reasonably loud argument was that we had worked harder than anyone else. Even the new comers and Harriett joined in saying this. Farmer Ben-Jamen was good natured and agreed; telling us it was one of the "best 'arvests 'e'd ever 'ad."

"Now go eat your vittles. Those gals 'ave worked 'ard on 'em and you better appreciate it." As everyone got to their feet and began skipping towards the barn house, Farmer Ben-Jamen addressed the musicians. "Freddy, Rikki, Gerta, Zeke, you are playin' at the dance tonight." He turned to me. "And _you're_ singin'."

I flared. "Luzcando's anthem is _not_ a song to dance to!" I was quite affronted that he would assume such a disrespectful idea! It was also rather insulting that he would demand such a service without consulting my wishes first.

"I weren't thinkin' of tat one, Miss Ruth. Don't you know any other ditties? Any from Durant per'aps?"

Embarrassed, I shook my head. Truthfully, that was the only song I had learned by heart. It was not a requirement for a princess to know any other. Farmer Ben-Jamen seemed to know the very solution. He placed a solemn hand on Fred's shoulder.

"You 'ad better teach this lassie some of our own songs, Freddy lad." He shook his head seriously and added, "T'wouldn't do to 'ave 'er living in our land without knowin' our own tunes. 'Twouldn't do t'all, especially when she's got a voice like _that_."

"Right then. I'll work on it, sir," promised Fred, giving me a sidelong grin.

Farmer Ben-Jamen nodded shortly and turned away to start goading the idlers to "git on and eat up." I was still rather sore at Fred for being such an ordinary man as to flirt with all those girls, but certainly didn't want him to know. I knew I would never hear the end of it, if he got it into his head that I was jealous, though it wasn't true at all. So, with great reluctance I allowed him to walk at my side as we made our way back through the orchard to where the food was set up.

"I see you discovered Rikki and Annette's circle. They are the best kids of the whole lot of Griftown."

I wanted to ask if that included their sister, but managed to refrain myself. Instead I commented, "Zeke attracted me first. He is a sweet soul."

"Like Peter?"

"No. Not like Peter. He is much more refined and cute."

"Refined and cute," repeated Fred in a pensive tone. "I must confess he is more unique than I thought, because I've never heard those two words used together. Is it refining to be cute do you think, or cute to be refining?"

He was mocking me! I smacked him in the arm while he chuckled at my expense. "That wasn't funny," I told him a little coldly. It did not occur to me to appreciate the fact he was teasing me and giving me attention. I only thought about those other girls and how much I definitely did not want to be like them. Facing away from him, I began to walk purposefully towards where Annette and Gwen were in line to fill their plates. Ladies were first of course, though I think Annette had to be forcefully placed at the end of the line by her brother and Zeke.

"Come in front of me, Ruth!" she said, a little desperately. "I can't have _you_ being behind me, it would make it look like I was more ladylike than you."

"That would be ridiculous," I agreed, glad it put some more distance between Fred and I. A potluck is very much like a banquet, except you've got to get the food yourself, instead of having it all served directly to you. I liked this method much better since it meant I could avoid that which looked risky.

For a minute I was slightly disturbed by the sizzling carcass of a calf that hung suspended on a couple of poles at the end of the serving table. Farmer Ben-Jamen was stripping it of its beef and putting it on plates, and I almost didn't take any. At the castle I never could tell what the meat was on sight, so cleverly had our cooks disguised it. I shook my head, and concentrated on the wafts of deliciousness emitting from it instead.

My plate was filled with all the good things, and I managed to sit by Gerta and Zeke at the huge table set up for our purpose. Farmer Ben-Jamen certainly knew how to accommodate large crowds. There were only a few boys who had to sit on the grass. The eating utensils were all his, and were washed by a few old ladies who wanted to help out so the young ones could have fun. It was amazing to me how all these people could get together and pitch in without being asked to help one another. They all seemed quite happy doing it, and were even distressed when they were _unable_ to assist in some way.

The afternoon dipped into dusk and I was glad when the boys set away tables and benches, thus clearing the lawn and half of the barn for a suitable dance floor. I had never danced on grass, and wondered if it would be more difficult. True to their word, Fred, Rikki, Zeke, and Gerta made up the band as couples began to form into lines or squares and do the lively dances Peter had tried to teach me. Annette attempted to instruct me in some of the dance, but soon grew impatient and left to dance herself. I watched intently as more young people flooded in and both the room and outside lawn became crowded. A couple of boys from the group obliged to teach me, and I slowly was able to catch onto a few. One boy in particular seemed very intent on keeping me company. He was rather awkward, and I seriously wondered if he was wholly sound in the head.

Since drums aren't always necessary, Zeke left his place at the end of the barn to nibble on desserts and watch Annette dance. I approached him, knowing it was far better to be with him than with the awkward boy.

"This is a new one I don't know," I told him as the couples whirled around in pairs. The steps didn't look very complicated since it didn't deal with switching or clapping or stomping.

"It's jus' the two step," Zeke informed me.

"It looks easy." I paused. Back home I would never have dreamed of asking a boy to dance. It just wasn't done. Sure I had requested Fred a couple days ago, but he was Fred, so that didn't count. I had seen plenty of girls ask boys, but didn't know if it was proper. Ah, why bother? "Will you show me?"

Zeke, always obliging and gentlemanly did just that. It was easy, and I nailed it pretty well without getting sore toes. There were other men who came and took the place of the original musicians and they gladly mingled with crowd. I stayed with Zeke as he helped me perfect the routine and added a couple of spins.

"You teach dancing as well as you pick cherries," I told him. "Did your mother teach you?"

He blushed scarlet. "Nah. Annette did."

"Ah…they say you dance best with the one who taught you. I guess it'd be lovely to see you dance with Annette."

He shook his head, looking the opposite direction of where Annette was laughing in the arms of a tall boy. "Nah, she wouldn't dance with me."

"Why not?"

"'Cause that would jus' be like dancing with Rikki."

"What's wrong with that?"

Zeke shrugged. I knew what he meant, it didn't help the point I was trying to make. "It's jus'…why would she want to dance with a brother? She's sees 'im all the time. It's fun dancing with other blokes, that's all."

"Have you asked her?"

"Nah…"

"You can't jump to conclusions like that, then. You can't be rejected without even asking. I think Annette would be delighted to dance with you. You could show her how good you've become."

"I'm not as good as others," he glanced meaningfully at the tall boy Annette was still dancing with.

"That's not important." I gave him a proper glare. "You had better not go home tonight without asking her. I'll be watching."

He gave a sheepish grin. "You sound like her."

That wasn't the answer I wanted. "You'll ask her won't you?"

"Aye, it's jus'…"

Zeke broke off as a loud murmur arose in the corner of the room. It turned into a crash and a crowd pressed towards the obvious noise of a scuffle. Zeke helped me push a path through the throng to where the action was. Farmer Ben-Jamen and another young man were in the process of pulling apart a very aggressive Fred and Raphael. I gaped in astonishment as the two stood apart from each other. Raphael, nose bleeding and cheek swelling, seemed hardly to be able to keep his balance, since he obviously had too much liquor in him. I was sure he was about to black out. Fred on the other hand looked ready to break free from Farmer Ben-Jamen's grasp and go at him again.

I had never seen Fred so upset. His eyes were blazing with anger and his teeth ground against each other. He was tense all over and everyone around him looked anxious. Farmer Ben-Jamen asked him sternly what was wrong, but he wouldn't answer, only glowered hatefully at Raphael. I must confess it rather frightened me.

"Freddy," Farmer Ben-Jamen was firm. "You've never acted this way. Ever. Now tell me wat 'e 'as done to deserve such punishment."

"He doesn't even belong here," spat Fred.

"I know tat, but tat don't mean you should cause such a bloody racket." Farmer Ben-Jamen studied Fred for a moment before asking, "Did 'e say somethin'?"

Fred stiffened.

"What did 'e say?"

Fred shook his head, "Something extremely rude and vulgar." In that instant his eyes met mine and I knew it had been about me. My heart tried to jump out through my throat. I swallowed it back down.

"Tat don't mean you needed to kill 'im."

"Aye." He took a deep breath and seemed to be calming down. The fire in his eyes dimmed and he relaxed slightly. "You're right. I'm sorry. He was drunk and probably won't remember it when he wakes up." He gave a rueful smile and ran a hand through his hair. He was completely over his mad fury. "I guess I'd better work on that temper of mine."

A few people laughed nervously. Rikki nudged the now unconscious Raphael and commented, "You'd better hope he remembers the beating you gave him, or he'll go right back to being as obnoxious as ever."

That brought more laughter, and the mayor's son was dragged away. The crowd shifted and began moving back to normality, but I could not. I wanted to sit down. I also wanted to look into Fred's face and see if I could detect any trace of that fury that had been there. However, he was turned away, apologizing to Farmer Ben-Jamen again, laughing with Rikki, and asking a girl to dance as the music started up again. Either Zeke had noticed my desire to be alone at the moment, or he found an opportunity to ask Annette, because I found myself standing in the midst of the dancing, alone.

In a sort of daze I moved away and sat at one of the tables, replaying the scene over in my mind. First and foremost, I felt incredibly guilty. I had been avoiding Fred this whole time because I thought he cared to be with other girls and was a typical male, something of a letdown. The occurrence with Raphael showed that he was still defending me, with a zeal I did not realize he had. The man had obviously said something very boorish to incite that kind of wrath, and dear old Fred had defended me.

I smiled a little ruefully at myself. _Silly Ruthia. Quit acting like an envious dimwit._ I recalled again what Farmer Ben-Jamen had said about his dealings with the ladies, and knew this was true. Through my over-the-shoulder glances, and sidelong snatches I had made several observations. First, he talked to _all_ the girls, even the ones with sweet hearts already or those that were obviously still very young. The smile Fred gave the girls was polite and charming, but not _teasing_. He _never_ touched them except for dancing. He never said a word about himself. Absently, I wondered if he treated me the same. I liked to think not.

I watched him as he finished twirling a happy girl of about fifteen, ending the song. His cheerful charming self was back, as though he had never laid eyes on Raphael in his whole life. If it had been me, I would have still been boiling and thinking of ways to severely discipline the man. Fred saw me staring at him and took the chance to walk over.

"You aren't dancing," he told me, taking a seat beside me.

"No, I'm not," I agreed.

"Why not?" It was very close to an accusation.

I kept my eyes on the crowd before me and so kept my blush from my cheeks. "Because no one has asked me, silly."

"Ah. Well, silly me will remedy that. Do you want to dance with me?"

Of course I wanted to dance with him, but I didn't want him to know that. I turned my gaze to meet his. "I'll dance with you."

"You didn't answer my question, milady."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back the smile. "You'd better be thankful for what you've got, young man," I told him. He grasped my hand and pulled me up from the bench. I felt a very small part of me want to pull away in protest, but it was silenced by the smile he gave me. It was the same position as the waltz, but the music was that of a Durantian two step, which Zeke had taught me so well.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but you don't appear any older when you call me a young man."

I shook my head at him, giving the tiniest hints of a smile. "Fred. We've already been through this discussion. I don't want to be older. I'm perfectly happy being as young as I am. If you continue to bring up the subject I will begin to suspect that you are regretting your own…older age."

He laughed, and I forgot all about the ill feelings I had felt towards him throughout that whole afternoon. He spun me around and taught me some more complicated moves that Zeke did not have time to show me. Although some of the steps were very intricate, I allowed myself to be led, following the music and hint of his hands. I was just beginning to get the hang of it when he stopped and brought me back to the basic position.

"I'm impressed," he told me. "You haven't stepped on my feet once."

"You stepped on mine."

"Once."

"Twice!"

"That was your foot? I thought that was a pebble. You have tiny feet."

"You have big feet."

"And yet I can still dance."

I allowed a smile. "Yes, you dance decently enough, even with your big feet." I remembered the waltz, and wondered if his courtier mother had taught him all of these as well. I thought about all the clapping, stamping, and lively do-si-does. It was likely they didn't play such jigs at any court. A lady might rip a skirt if she got that rowdy.

It was startling to me when the music ceased and Fred gave me a proper bow.

"Thank you for the dance, milady. I will now go see if Nena is available."

He was leaving, and I realized I didn't want him to. It wasn't only because he was my friend, but because he was a good dancer, and I preferred dancing with men who knew what they were doing. I caught sight of the boy who had been particularly intent on getting my attention. When he gave me a huge silly grin I had an idea. Before Fred could disappear entirely I was at his side, holding his arm, and looking over my shoulder with furrowed brows.

"Yes?" His tone was cool, but his face showed amused befuddlement.

"I know it goes against your custom to dance with a girl twice in a row, but could you save me from an awkward situation and dance with me again?"

He faced me, and slowly folded his arms over his chest. I had to pull my hand away in order for it not to get squished. "Well," he said, looking at me expectantly.

"Well, what?" I repeated impatiently. I was afraid he was refusing, and the boy was advancing.

Fred tsked his tongue like a disappointed teacher. "Really, Ruth, I can't believe you've forgotten the magic word."

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes he could really be exasperating with his insisting on being polite. However, this was not the time or place to put up a fight. Clasping my hands together and looking up at him with widened pleading eyes, I asked in a whimper, "Oh, Fred, won't you _please_ dance with me again so that I won't be accosted by a particularly gawky and weird boy who makes me feel uncomfortable and will surely step on my tiny feet more than twice?"

He laughed, and I knew I had won.

"All right," he agreed and we were back in position to another two step. I was sure it was Farmer Ben-Jamen's favorite tune. "I accept your plea, though I have a sneaky suspicion that it had a hint of sarcasm to it."

"Well, it wouldn't have come out if I hadn't had to act like a puppy dog," I retorted, and added in my mind, _or one of those simpering maidens_.

"You make a very good puppy dog," he replied sincerely.

Even though we were dancing I gave him a good whack on the chest, but smiled at the same time. He pretended to stumble backward at my strike, and in order to "right" himself I found I was pulled even closer than before. I was beginning to regret my resort to violence, knowing it never did do any good. I focused on dancing after that, and let the music take over. With Fred it was easy to simply close my eyes and let him guide me along, and so I did, somehow imagining that I was dressed in slippers, silk, and sapphires. It didn't work as well as the waltz, so I just enjoyed the country melody, the friendly laughter, and the new yet now familiar movement of the dance. Visions of teasing boys with dirty boots, girls with careless braids, and baskets of plump cherries filled my mind. Marble castles, silk gowns, and carefully placed words were nothing compared to the grass, sunny orchard, wooden benches, and a straw strewn barn floor that I had experienced.

I was so engrossed in taking it all in without the use of my sight that I was rather startled when Fred cleared his throat. My eyes popped open realizing that the music was over but we were still in dancing position, that I was grasping his hand and shoulder, while he stood there, smiling.

"Are you awake now?" he asked.

What astonished me was that I didn't blush at all. I simply nodded my head and released him, smiling a little sheepishly. I felt a little embarrassed, but that was it. No awkward glances, no flaming cheeks. Well, I was certainly acting unusually. I looked back up at Fred, who had that same nervous expression as when we had finished the waltz only a few days before. He stepped back, appearing thoroughly abashed and uncertain. Naturally I glared, trying to figure out what was wrong. He never lost his composure with the other girls.

"Well, I better go see if Nena is available now. Or better yet, I better go see what's going on outside."

He turned around and began making his way through the crowd of young people. I was quick to follow him. I had decided I wasn't going to be put off so easily. Why did I have to be left in darkness all the time? I would find out what I wanted to know. He flashed me a look that was a bit annoyed when I came up beside him as he walked past the tables outside and took a couple steps to the side, distancing himself.

"You're following me?" he asked incredulously.

"Why did you leave so suddenly?" I demanded.

"Didn't I give you some sort of excuse?" he wondered, stopping beneath one of the cherry trees on the first row. Night had fully fallen by now, and the sky was perfectly clear, showing off a bright moon that outshone the stars around it.

"Yes, but I don't believe a word of it."

"You don't, eh?" he replied as though he wasn't really listening. Leaning up against the tree he seemed to be focusing on the stars as if trying to figure out a way to reach them. "Well, it's the only thing I'll tell you, so you might as well believe it."

"You did the same thing at the dance for the Day of the Flowers. It's as if you were… nervous or…scared."

Fred turned his gaze to me. "You think I was scared?"

Perhaps I had been imagining things. Fred wasn't scared. He was far too confident and able for that. Perhaps he really was just wanting a bit of fresh air. I realized I must look terribly ridiculous storming out here to demand what was the matter when it was nothing at all. Still, something didn't feel right.

"Well, maybe not _scared_," I muttered, looking down at the grass. I realized how cold it was and I remembered how warm it had been in the barn when we were dancing. Folding my arms over my chest I looked behind me. The couples outside were warm too. I could see sweat on Zeke's forehead as he twirled Annette around and around. If only I could match their blissful grins.

"Then what?"

"You tell me!" I shot back. "All I know is that you're acting strange, and you won't give me a good reason. We dance and everything is fine. We stop and you need a breath of fresh air as if you've just finished a blacksmithing job. It doesn't fit you and I just wanted to know why." I was losing my temper in my defense and I knew I had to stop. I had to be nice and calm. It would have been easier if Fred was being normal.

As if reading my thoughts he said with his easy drawl, "Maybe I do get a bit odd after dancing with you. That's just because you thoroughly amaze me with your fantastic dancing skills, eh, milady?"

I looked up into his face to see his grin was back, and his eyes twinkling with tease. I had told him not to call me "milady" but somehow it still stuck and it fit nicely. Giving him a slight glare while blushing, I whacked his shoulder. "Don't be sarcastic."

"Oh, but I'm not like you, milady. I speak with complete sincerity."

"As do I," I murmured, still wondering about his strange behavior, I doubted it had anything to do with my "fantastic dancing skills", as he so flatteringly put it.

Fred cleared his throat as if he meant business and declared, "I'm going to change the subject now. I wanted to apologize for keeping you here longer than I expected. I should have known that Lily would take such a long time. I still don't expect her for another week. I realize it must be terribly inconvenient for you, and I'm afraid I'm not keeping my side of the bargain very…."

"It's all right," I assured him. He was too surprised to point out I had interrupted him.

"It is?"

I didn't want to explain _how_ it was all right so I said, "I suppose I should thank you for beating Raphael to a bloody pulp."

That dangerous glint of anger returned to his eyes but he smiled ruefully and a bit teasingly. "So are you going to actually thank me, or are you satisfied with just thinking about how you should?"

It was dark so I don't think he saw me roll my eyes, but I'm sure he heard the smile in my voice.

"Thank you for beating Raphael to a bloody pulp."

"You're welcome," he replied, and that was that.


	20. Blame it on the Drowning Bees

**No, this is not an illusion. This is an update.**

**A brief yet unjustifiable reason for my prolonged absence:**

**1. I was too busy enjoying my own romance, engagement, marriage to be worrying about Ruth's.**

**2. The flash drive that held this story was lost. I worked on many of the upcoming chapters, but all of that is gone, and I am trying to rewrite a good portion of this story. That is discouraging.**

**Two reasons for continuing:**

**1. The reviews. I do read them. And they DO spur me to action. :)**

**2. I found another flash drive that had the story on it without the future chapter additions. It was enough to encourage me.**

**Despite my obvious flaw of neglect, I hope you enjoy this chapter. :) I did.  
**

**Chapter 19: Blame it on the Drowning Bee**

Only the sun knew my location exactly… and of course the bugs that occupied the grasses around me. The morning had drifted past like a horse walking leisurely to its stall for shade or a bit of corn. Sundays quieted the town to a peaceful silence that included the sound of the church bell, friendly conversation, and the hum of nature. Jess and Marta had us attend the early sermon, of course, which had taken nearly two hours. I regret to say I do not recall most of it, but surely the message had encouraged good behavior.

After a pleasant dinner, Jess took a nap which caused the whole house to vibrate with his snores. Marta recited passages of the Bible to Aspen. Everyone else seemed to wander off into a state of relaxation and pondering. I would not be left with nothing to do, and consequently retrieved the leather bound journal Fred had obtained just yesterday.

The grass in the back yard had reached nearly three feet in growth, and I determined to hide among their green blades as I spent the next two hours exploring and recording the thoughts in my head. I refuse to enclose every detail of that event, but the result remained both resolved and puzzling in the same heartbeat.

I decided that my conduct for the past eight years or so had indeed been uncouth and unbefitting for a human being. To say the least, it was a difficult conclusion to come to. Truth be told, I would only admit this to myself… and that bug trekking over my knee. Flicking him away did not remove the next subject which vexed and occupied my mind.

Fred.

What to do about Fred? What to make of him? I could not make him into a dish of scrambled eggs and bacon, for he was far too complicated and stubborn for that. I could not place him in the category of a suitor, for he defied that low position. He was not royalty, or he would not be an odd man. I could not reduce him to the station of an irritating insect, because he was definitely someone. Someone who could not be manipulated, disobeyed, or insulted. What could I do with him? In truth, Fred was not to be controlled. Fred was Fred.

I blew a wisp of hair from my face in exasperation. It had occurred to me to stop trying to change the man, and simply accept him as he was, but that didn't sit right either. Truly, I could not fully accept him, because I did not fully _know _him. Smiling, I wrote this idea down in my journal, which already had five pages marked.

_In order to figure out Fred, I must come to know him. He'll put up a strong resistance of course. Therefore, to break through to his weaknesses and deeper character, I must become his intimate friend without him suspecting. This way he will reveal everything without difficult digging on my part. From now on, I will accept any attempts of friendliness on his side, and will not hasten to negative remarks._

After rereading what I wrote I scratched out "_intimate_" and replaced it with "_near._" Satisfied with my brief entry and strategy, I signed my name at the bottom. Closing the cover, I heaved a relieved sigh. Heaven help the soul who peeked into this book, for I would not retain my retribution.

Human whistling broke through my thoughts and I instinctively hunched my shoulders, hoping to be fully veiled by the vegetation. However, I suddenly realized that the approaching person might be informing me of a pie to snack on. I would never pass up one of Marta's deserts. With this new assumption, I stood up and was actually pleased to see Fred strolling through the grass in my direction. Please note that my pleasure occurred simply because of my new strategy. His arrival meant I could start straight away.

"Greetings, Fred," I said. I remembered my other resolve to stay out of his suspicion, and so placed a hand on my hip. "Why are you looking to disturb my peace again?"

He held out his hands in defense. "That was not my intent, milady. I only wished to inform you that the youngsters are swimming at the hole again. Truth, they've been there for over an hour, but I just realized you might enjoy watching them again, so I came searching for you."

I was not surprised at this announcement. The day had begun unmercifully hot, but I had forgotten about the heat as some cool winds and the shade of the grass kept me in contentment. Aspen and her friends would surely find relief in the river. To further support the story, I heard the distant sounds of laughter and shouting.

"Very well, I will join you," I declared, as I stooped for my journal.

"I'm glad to see you've been using it," Fred commented with his eyes on the book.

"Yes, and I warn you now to never _ever_ even _think_ of reading a word of it." I could not imagine the horror if Fred of all people got a hold of the information stored in that precious manuscript. It occurred to me how risky a diary could be. Thoughts are safe in the head, but once written in ink, it has left the realm of absolute secrecy.

A look of mock pain clouded his features. "You accuse me of such an idea? Milady, I am hurt that you would think of me as a prying sneak."

"Prying remains to be seen, I'll admit, but Marta can back me up on the 'sneak' part. You will never leave her list of suspects for who snitched her tarts."

"And you are permanently on the list of who has partaken of said snitched tarts."

"That's not being discussed at the moment," I replied. I dimly recalled the last passage in my journal, and then shook my head at my lacking sense of reality. Sparring with Fred was part of our growing friendship (yes I admit to it). I could not become wholly sweet and flattering like Harriett or…that girl with the hideous yellow dress.

Eugene and Peter were both on the jumping branch when we reached the swimming hole, and it appeared they were trying to maintain their balance while pushing the other into the water. Aspen, enthused by the sport, cheered them both on. As I mentally predicted, they simultaneously slipped and plummeted into the water.

Fred joined Aspen's laughter, and even I had to chuckle a bit. As I settled to the side of the bank, where I could enjoy the shallow water and the distance I realized that Fred was not dressed, or undressed, for swimming. He was fully attired, and simply sat on a log near me to continue observing the younger ones.

"Why aren't you swimming?" I inquired.

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving the others. "I just didn't feel like it. Besides, it gives them more chances on the branch."

I didn't comment on the slight trickle of sweat that slipped past his side burn. He even had boots on, and I knew that would make the environment utterly uncomfortable. In fact, he didn't seem like himself. The constant smile that tweaked his lips was dim, and although he watched the children, he appeared preoccupied. Although I was tempted to find out what was wrong, I recalled our previous banter about prying, and decided against it.

A rumble in the sky caught all of our attention. The children stopped their noise and looked up. Clouds had rolled in without our noticing, and now the heavens were dark and grey. Lighting flickered on the horizon, and the humidity intensified.

"Time to go," declared Fred, getting to his feet.

"Aw shucks!" whined Eugene. "Do we have to?"

"I don't want any angry mamas blaming me for a cold their child caught," replied Fred. "Come on out."

The children crawled out of the water with groans and sighs. Aspen was one of the first to throw a towel about her bare shoulders. As Eugene and Peter pulled on their shirts, I knew they weren't too disappointed. It had been a good day.

"I'll race you to the house," boasted Peter to the others.

"You'll lose," retorted Eugene.

"That's 'cause _I'll _win," quipped Aspen.

Nobody had to say go.

It was then that I noticed the bee. This particular one was attempting to buzz right out of the water, while staying clear of the current. At the palace I had rescued several bees from our fountain in an act of boredom and security of our honey. After only a moment of hesitation, I reached out and gently scooped it out of the water. It lay, quivering in my hand as it realized it was no longer in danger. I carefully shifted it to my other hand so it would dry quickly and be off, hopefully away from the treacherous surface.

"Ruthia? Are you coming?"

I glanced up at Fred, slightly surprised at his calling me by my first name, then returned my attention to the bee. "I must first take care of this fellow."

Curious and confused, Fred walked over to see what I meant. I stretched out my hand to show him. I was certain he would make a comment paralleling bunnies; however, he stopped abruptly in his tracks. Taking a few steps back he seemed to have a look of worry on his face.

"That's nice," he commented shortly. "You can put it down and we can go."

"He won't hurt me," I replied. I preferred to see them safely off, rather than plopping them on the ground. I cocked my head at his strange behavior and asked, "Are you afraid of him?"

Fred responded quickly. "Of course not." Clearing his throat he added, "I have a healthy respect for them that makes me keep my distance."

I was openly smiling now. "Fred. I never would have guessed that you, who can defeat a dragon and captivate a court, would tremble at this tiny insect!"

"I'm not trembling," he rejoined. "You would keep your distance too if you had been stung by those critters thirty seven times."

"Thirty seven…!" I shook my head. "That's impossible."

"I have each incident recorded in my own journal, which _you_ must promise not to look for."

I chuckled at that. "I've never been accused of being a sneak, and I don't plan on adding that to my reputation. However, I must see these entries in order to truly believe it. I still think you are unreasonably afraid of bees."

"Marta, Jess, Lawrence, and several others can vouch on my favor!" insisted Fred. "I am quite content with that number, and have no reason for making it thirty eight! Bees may like you, but I assure you, they have an innate aversion for…gaah!"

He uttered a flow of gibberish as he literally jumped back nearly two feet. I had stepped up quickly to him, the bee stretched forward, and I did not regret my action. His reaction was so quick and the expression etched on his face was so comical I burst into laughter, nearly letting the bee drop from my hand.

"Oh, Fred!" I gasped. "You are too much!"

He was not quite amused. "Don't do that again."

Instead, I again took several unexpected steps toward him, still giggling. Again, he backtracked, only this time he was not so careful with his footing. Being so near to the bank caused him to slip in the mud the children had created earlier. Arms and legs flailing, he slid up to his knees in water and weeds. I could not control myself then. Fearing, I would harm the bee, I sat down, and set it safely aside as I allowed myself to laugh at the man's predicament.

"I told you not to do that!" he cried, a look of consternation on his face.

"But you didn't say _please_," I replied once I had regained my composure. I enjoyed another bout of laughter, gloating in my success. I had not forgotten the entertainment _he _had had when he taught me the "magic word."

Thankfully, that altered his attitude. His trademark grin traced up his face as he watched me chuckle and wipe the tears that had come to my eyes. The tears and ache in my side were new to me; I had not laughed that hard since…an eternity.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a clap of thunder startled me from my seat with a slight yelp. By leaping to my feet, I stumbled on a rock which returned me to my rump. However, I had landed closer to the edge, and the slope of the bank provided the perfect sliding entrance into the water. I tried to right myself, and probably would have succeeded, but Fred had other plans. Out for revenge, he tugged at my sides, which plopped me directly into the river. I gasped as the chill water engulfed me up to my waist. A sudden downpour of rain hardly helped the situation.

"Oh!" I could hardly collect my thoughts as I tried to position myself to standing. It was a difficult task since my feet were still sitting on the top of the bank. Fred was enjoying his own trick with laughter, but that hardly excused him.

"Fred!" I protested. "Help me up! How could you do such a thing? Oh, you are _the_ most rude ruffian I have ever…"

"Aren't you going to say please?" wondered Fred, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

I glowered at him, still hoping to get out of this mess without getting wetter. Actually, considering the rain, I hardly hoped anymore. "You interrupted me, so of course, you wouldn't know."

"Touché," he replied. He grabbed me under my arms and with a quickness that surprised me, righted me on my feet, still in the water. "Is that better?"

"Thank you," I told him tartly, because I knew he was expecting it. Then, without warning, I shoved him as hard as I could. I turned in the same moment and scrambled up the bank to safety. My face filled with a delighted smile when I realized I had succeeded in completely swallowing him up in the deeper middle part. He came up quickly, but actually had to swim a bit to reach the shallower side. He sat in the water, still reeling from the shock.

"That was a dirty trick, milady," he informed me as he shook his head, trying to get most of the water out. I didn't see why he even bothered; the rain would keep it soaked. The tickling trickles took in every part of my body and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

"It was only dirty because that is your condition," I responded. I was quite pleased to see that he did indeed have bits of grass and muck sticking to his face, shoulders, hair, and chest.

He looked himself over and nodded. "Aye, it does add some interesting detail to my person." His eyes met mine with sudden mischief. "Methinks you should have the same decoration."

"Oh, you wouldn't dare…"

He did. I had only backed two steps before the front of my dress was riddled with splatters of mud and muck.

"Fred!" I wailed. "That's not nice!"

"Then it suites you," he replied, grinning from ear to ear.

That caused me to retaliate. Leaning down, I scraped up a glob of slick mire and flung it at him. It did not splatter him, but landed with a definite thud on his shoulder. I think he was more surprised that I had actually hit him. He did not realize my throwing abilities.

"This calls for war," he declared.

"I refuse!" I snapped, trying to bite back the smile.

He shrugged. "All the easier for me." He shifted onto his knees and buried his hands deep in the muck.

I knew I didn't stand a chance so I suppose that explains my next actions. Skipping into the water I began to kick up all the mud and water I could in his direction. I felt a few thumps on my legs as he threw his missiles, but I concentrated on my kicking.

"Hey, hey!" He yelled. "That's hardly fair!"

"Who says life is fair?" I retorted. I was suddenly reminded that Fred had told me that very phrase when I complained to my father about our marriage. The irony of our switched places so struck me that I nearly gasped. I couldn't help chuckling at the situation and stopped kicking.

"Milady!" Fred cried, "I give up! You win!"

His state was wholly humorous. If he had been any wetter, I'm sure he would have dripped into the river and flowed right past. Pinpricks of mud were all over his face and grass graced his figure. To top it off, his beard had been extended by a collection of mossy mud that stuck and dangled from the very tip.

I fell laughing onto the bank, not caring that my dress stuck to my legs in a most uncomfortable manner. It had been a hot few weeks, and now it was raining, so it didn't matter. It felt wonderful. Fred plopped down beside me, as I slowly regained control. The beard addition was gone, and most of the prominent "decorations." He wiped his face across his sleeve to get any mud that remained there. I sent him a saucy smirk.

Glancing at me he said, "You've got some under your eye, too, so don't laugh."

Despite myself, I lifted a quick hand to mop away the mud.

Now it was Fred's turn to chuckle. "You've succeeded in spreading it across your face! Here, let me." Before I could protest his hand was my cheek, rubbing gently. I swallowed hard as I let the warmth of his hand sink into my cool cheek. When he pulled back, he left a cold spot on my cheek.

What startled me even more was when he did not stop looking at my face. He wasn't just gazing, he was _staring_. Fred never stared. He may look long and hard, but now it seemed as if he couldn't tear his eyes away. I grew nervous, wondering what it was that had drawn his intense attention, though not daring to ask. My hair was wet, sticking to my neck and forehead, and the drops falling from the trees didn't help. I wore no makeup, and there was surely mud in my hair. What could he find that made him stare so?

"Did you know your freckles are adorable?"

I blinked. He was staring at my freckles? Of all the things…I was unable to finish my thought because suddenly his muddy hand was at the nape of my neck and he was kissing me. I tasted rain and warmth.

It didn't take long to regain my senses, because I pulled back fiercely and dealt him a mighty blow across the face with the palm of my hand. Jumping to my feet I could hardly meet his eyes.

"How dare you?" I hissed, turned, and ran away. I only went out of sight, to the field behind the boarding house before I stopped. The rain drenched my already soaked being and I stood, my feet getting muddier, and my lips getting colder. I had not waited for a reply, but I knew it in my mind. I could hear exactly how he would have said it too, chuckling and shaking his head slightly.

"_Ah, but milady, _you_ kissed me back."_

And then I was smiling.

* * *

Aspen was all wrapped up in Marta's thick shawl and sitting by the fireplace, her hair combed and braided. She watched as I slipped into the kitchen, still dripping from the rain and river, and still smiling.

"It feels good don't it?" she asked.

I was startled by her question, unsure what she was referring to. Surely she hadn't seen Fred and me…

"What does?"

"The rain," she replied, as if that were the obvious answer.

I beamed. "Oh, yes. It feels absolutely wonderful." I was suddenly aware of a sweet smell wrapping around the entire kitchen. Three of Marta's famous cherry pies were sitting on the counter, steam still wafting from the crust. My mouth watered, just as Marta swept into the room.

"Oh, sweetie! You are all wet! I suppose you got caught in the rain! Go change! Go, dearie! Go grab a blanket and join Aspen by the fire. These pies will take care of your insides. Go!"

I made no argument and nearly skipped up the stairs. Just as I reached the top, I heard the door open and Fred enter. Involuntarily I blushed, as I heard him greet Marta and comment on the pies. He too was ushered out of the kitchen to his bedroom, which was located in the back of the house.

I suppose the flush and smile were still evident on my face as I entered my bedroom. It was all lit up with candles, even though the sun was not setting yet. I was startled to see Minnie there. She was putting extra blankets on our beds, and hardly glanced at me.

Ignoring her as well, I located my nightgown and waited patiently for her to leave. She didn't. She continued to flit around the room as if looking for dust. My patience doesn't last long, especially for one who couldn't accept the fact that the one she liked, wasn't interested.

"Are you finished?" I wondered pointedly.

"Don't be so hasty, princess," she retorted.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed that she would try to dim my good mood. I was thoroughly tired of this envy and rudeness that continued to stand between us. I threw up my hands and declared, "Oh, for goodness sakes, Minnie, just forget about him."

She glared at me, hardly ready to take my advice.

"I'm sure you've tried to get his attention, but it is apparent to everyone but yourself, that he is not interested." I smiled, trying to soften the strike. "Why don't you go for someone more receptive to your charms?"

"Are you saying you that _you_ are claiming him for yourself?"

I gaped at her. How could she propose such a thing? For one thing, Fred was _not_ a thing to be claimed. Secondly, I was hardly the kind of person who would actively…the recent incident by the river flooded my memory, and I blushed. I certainly wasn't _claiming_ him as Minnie so audaciously suggested.

Not wanting her to see the blush or the confusion that encased my heart, mind, and eyes, I turned away. Straightening with resolve I replied primly, "Why would _I_ claim a peasant? That's absurd."

She snickered and shook her head as if she couldn't believe me. Without another word, she left the room. Thankful for her absence I quickly dressed and snuggled myself into the quilt Minnie had tossed on my bed. Jess, Aspen, and some of the renters had already finished off a whole pie when I reached the sitting room. Marta was scooping a slice onto Minnie's plate who promptly settled down beside Walter.

"Come get a bit, Ruth," directed Marta. "These vultures won't even stop for a princess. Come on."

I thanked her for my portion and took a seat next to Aspen. The crackling fire, the comforting quilt, and oven fresh pie entwined themselves around every cold part on my body and I thoroughly enjoyed the smile that dominated my face. Who knew that such simple things could make one so happy?

Aspen engaged me in telling about the goal she had to beat Peter in racing. He had one this round, she admitted, but with practice, she was determined to take his place. She asked about my own running abilities, and I hardly had anything to say. I had even less to say when someone bumped my shoulder.

Looking up quickly, I saw Fred grinning down. He plopped something into my lap and I quickly directed my attention downward, eager to hide the blush that so treacherously tinged my cheeks. There sat my journal. It was damp, and I immediately held it up with concern, my previous embarrassment disregarded.

"Oh, I completely forgot about this!" I stopped, remembering _why_ I had forgotten, and that I was not supposed to be entirely happy with him at the moment. I bit my lip, refusing to look up at him again. I didn't know what to say. I honestly did not like these situations. I was continually thanking the man!

"There is no damage done," assured Fred, and by his voice, I knew he enjoyed my rather awkward predicament. "It just needs a dry spot to stay."

"Is that your journal?" wondered Aspen. "It's a good thing Fred saved it. The rain could have eaten it!"

"Yes," I replied evenly, addressing Aspen. "It's a good thing Fred saved it." That's all I said, and I sincerely hoped the red on cheeks would be dismissed as too much time spent by the fire's heat.

Before anything could be further discussed we were interrupted by the distressing appearance of Gwen. Her form was hardly normal. The shawl about her was skewed and she wrung her hands in a frantic sort of way. Her large eyes had dark shades beneath them, and I realized she had actually lost weight.

"Fred, I want you to come see him. He's…" she stopped, glancing around the room at the audience. She settled for a desperate and firm: "Please."

Of course he didn't hesitate. Fred always rushed to assist. He might have glanced at me on his way up the stairs, but it was hard to tell. Aspen tugged on my arm, insisting that I listen to her next story.

Giving her a patient smile I said, "I will listen later. Right now I better put this where it belongs. It shouldn't stay so close to the fire. Why don't you go get another piece of pie?"

After I tucked the journal away I stayed in the room a moment to regain my composure and cool off from the fire's and Fred's effect. When I walked into the hall, I hesitated at the murmur of voices in the sick room. I had not always resorted to eavesdropping, but hardly had such chances. I stepped close to the door and gently leaned my ear forward, just brushing the wood.

"…don't like to take advantage of your resources, Fred," Gwen's voice was still deeply anxious. "But I honestly fear for his life."

"I know, I know," Fred sounded like he had reassured her dozens of times. "I should have left days ago. Weeks ago...but…I'm sorry. I will leave tonight and be back by tomorrow or the following morning. Lily and the doctor can't be too far now. It's only a matter of hurrying them along."

"The doctor is already on his way?"

"Yes. Coincidentally he accompanied Lily to review several medical students at the Rhoton University in anticipation of an assistant. That is what has been delaying them for so long. Lily is naturally impatient, but still too young to proceed without a guardian. Doctor Ercanbrack is not known for his hastiness which is better for his patients."

"I'm so glad you understand the urgency, but I do regret you have to leave tonight."

"Me too. Marta's pie is best when it's hot."

I could imagine Gwen shaking her head, obviously not thinking of the pie, but of the dark wet trip before him. I didn't know where he was going, but any trip in rain was unpleasant. The thought of Fred leaving was hard to conceive. Since my kidnapping and rescue he had been there every step of my strange journey, and although I could say I would not miss his presence, every other part of me knew it wasn't true.

The doorknob shifted, and I stepped quickly away from the door. However, I couldn't move my bare feet in time to hide myself, so I stood awkwardly in the hall as Fred emerged from the sick room. He stopped abruptly when he saw me and for a moment, it was terribly uncomfortable. I met his eyes and he knew that I had heard the conversation. Nevertheless, he felt like he should tell me.

"Lawrence is worse, deathly worse. I must procure the services of a skilled doctor if we want any hope for his survival. Fortunately I will find the doctor in the same place as my sister." He paused. "When I come back she will be with me, and you can meet her."

I didn't reply.

He continued, his voice very composed and controlled; not at all how I felt. "Once you have met her, you are free to choose what occurs next."

I didn't want to think about that decision. My tongue found a voice, and my sincere response didn't say anything about my thoughts, "I hope Lawrence will get better. I want Gwen to have something truly joyful to write about."

Fred's tiny smile comforted me, but not as much as the hug he suddenly encircled me in. I did not return the embrace, but simply curled up against his warm chest. For a brief prolonged moment I enjoyed his steady heartbeat, his scratchy chin on the top of my still wet head, and the smell of rain, dirt, and Fred. All too soon, he drew back, but not before bestowing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

Without another word between us, he hurried down the stairs. I heard him inform the others of the plan as Marta fretfully packed food for the journey and Jess wished him good luck. There were other words of comfort and reassurance before the door opened and I heard the beating rain more profoundly before the door and Fred's final farewell silenced it.

* * *

**I promise I WILL complete this story. Ruth demands it.  
**


	21. Untitled

**If this chapter seems rushed or rather off to you...it is. The author (me) was getting back in the mood after a horridly long absence and Ruthia herself is...well rushed and rather off in this chapter. That's why we couldn't come up with a name for the chapter.  
**

**Also I'd like to thank** InChristIStand** for sending me the most recent encouragement which was pretty much the final shove toward updating. :)**

**Chapter 20: Untitled**

The next day was quiet. Nobody seemed in the mood for talking, even Aspen. The pottery had not come in yet, so I did not accompany Jess to wherever he left to. After all the kitchen and cleaning tasks were accomplished the girls took various sewing projects and adjourned to the parlor.

Marta had been there the majority of the morning, but had traded posts with Gwen, who was obviously stressed by her time in the sick room. So despite her worried looks, Gwen sat in the rocking chair crocheting a new table cloth. I was amazed at her beautiful handiwork, but didn't dare ask that she teach me. Truth be told, I was afraid I wouldn't be good at it.

Aspen occupied the corner. She was supposed to be knitting her scarf for that winter, but split her time between knitting, and tantalizing her kitten with the yarn. Minnie sat across from me, intent on her mending pile. I had brought down my journal, and was completely absorbed in recording the month of my adventure in detail. As I said, we were a quiet bunch. The only noise beside the movement of needles through cloth and the occasional creak of Gwen's chair, was Aspen's soft giggling at her kitten's antics.

After a while, I became rather annoyed with the prevailing silence. I knew what everyone was thinking, because it was what I was thinking. Where was Fred? Would he be back soon? Would Lawrence get better?

Still, nobody said anything.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?" My question startled everyone. Not only did it break the stillness, but it was completely random and irrelevant to anything.

Gwen, no longer assisting in the kitchen, admitted she didn't know. Minnie ignored me and Aspen replied, "I think we are having dumplings. That's Lily's favorite dish, so we are hoping they come back by dinner."

I nodded absently. I hadn't really been curious; I only wanted to fill the irritating emptiness. "Well, that's nice," I murmured. "I like dumplings."

Gwen must have realized my attempt at conversation because she chimed in, "Yes, Marta's dumpling recipe is wanted by all the ladies in town. They crowd her with questions whenever she makes it for a public dinner."

"I suppose she beats them off with her ladle, smiling proudly the whole time," I commented with affection, and Gwen smiled in agreement. I felt pleased that I had been the one to finally bring the first genuine smile to her worn face, and tried to think of something to keep it there.

"I have something of interest you might want to put in your book," I told her.

"And what's that? Something having to do with you and Fred?" her smile grew to be teasing. "I've been hoping to include something besides you two picking flowers for me."

I almost scowled, but found the grimace was no longer desirable. Instead, my chin cocked up in my response, "Yes, something about me and Fred." I didn't mind telling Gwen. "We had a water fight yesterday."

"Without me?" Aspen wailed in disbelief.

"You'd already gone home," I told her. I proceeded to describe the encounter with the bee, the rain and mud fight. "He couldn't stand my attacks and actually begged me to stop. It was the sweetest triumph I've tasted. After that we sat on the bank and…" I stopped, realizing my tale was about to enter dangerous territory. "Well, I gloated."

"That's it?" Gwen had noticed the hesitation and was pressing for more.

"Yes. That was that. Then we went back to the house."

"How come you didn't come at the same time?" wondered Aspen who had thoroughly enjoyed my story. It was an innocent question, but had treacherous consequences.

My answer was flat. "Because."

Gwen's smile was truly happy as she commented lightly, "I imagine Fred had some gloating of his own to do before he came in the house."

"Huh?" Aspen's confusion had not lessened.

"Minnie! Aspen!" Marta's demanding call startled all of us.

Aspen jumped to her feet and replied with her prompt, child-like obedience. "Coming, Mama!" She was out of the room in seconds.

Minnie was slower, and I could not help catch the glower she sent my way as she left. Surely she meant for me to see it, poor jealous girl. Perhaps it was a vengeful desire to get back at her, or maybe it was to see Gwen's happiness prolonged. Or maybe, I was feeling especially feminine and wanted to divulge in some romantic details to a fellow maid who would appreciate it. Whatever the reason, I leaned closer to Gwen and in a low tone confessed, "Actually, he did have a reason to gloat."

Gwen's eyes widened and gave me the desired attention. "Oh?"

I nodded, and couldn't stop the blush from heating my cheeks. "Yes…he kissed me."

My friend's eyes glowed with appropriate delight. "Oh, Ruth," she breathed, then stopped in knowing surprise. "And you let him?"

Here I sat back with uncertainty. It was one thing to admit to such an event, quite another to interpret it. "Well…to a degree. I mean…I was rather shocked, of course. He didn't _ask_. It just happened. I slapped him afterward."

Gwen's facial response was a mix between a desire to frown, giggle, and guffaw. The result was a strange noise mixing it all. "What? Why?"

I pulled my chin in defensively, "Because he didn't ask! It was rather unexpected and…well I suppose it was just instinctive."

"Oh, so you weren't really unhappy with him?"

"Well…" Now I felt like I was really in trouble. The only thing I could say was the truth, "I actually can't say for sure. I do not regret my action. However… I would not mind a second chance." There. I had said far too much. I had just admitted that I would accept a second kiss from Fred. What had the world come to? In a moment of desperation I placed a hand on Gwen's arm and said, "Please don't include this in your journal!"

She chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll keep your secret."

"Fred is nice to all the girls,"

Gwen and I looked up in surprise to see Minnie leaning against the doorway. Where had that comment come from? She continued as she hurried to the couch, her eyes focused on her mending, "Ever since I can remember, he's always been the perfect gentleman to every girl. In fact, every girl in this town has some story about what she and Fred have done."

Apparently Gwen wasn't the only one who had heard me divulge in my story. However, I felt instantly calm and unaffected; in fact I was _glad_ she had heard me. Perhaps now she would see how useless her own efforts were.

"Minnie," chided Gwen gently, "It's not like that."

"Yes, it is. You haven't talked to the girls, like I have, Gwen. Every one of them has at some point fallen in love with him, or are still in love with him. He has that effect on girls."

"Like you?" I pointed out. I felt guilty for announcing her secret love to everyone the first day I was here, but now I hardly felt compunction.

Minnie flushed and jabbed her needle into the pair of pants she was working on. Her eyes met mine, and I knew she was _not_ happy.

"Yes," she replied stoutly. "Like me. However, I don't go around flaunting it. I don't go chasing after him like all the other girls. Because of their advances, Fred has kissed quite a few of them."

"Minnie!" Gwen was thoroughly disappointed now. "Fred wouldn't do that!" She had full confidence in her fiancé's friend, and was not about to stay silent. "You don't know that Fred has done that unless you go spying on him all the time."

"Actually, he has," retorted Minnie, refusing to retreat. "The girls have told me. Fred admitted it a couple times, too."

Even though I knew she wanted to rile me up, I remained completely composed on the inside. Her rant had hardly diminished my thoughts. I knew she was only speaking in jealousy, and her statements were white lies at best. Deciding to finish this grudge between us I asked, "Why are you telling me this, Minnie?"

"Because I'm tired of how precious you think you are," she snapped. Breathing in a few times she persisted with her explanation in a more controlled tone. "Ever since you stepped foot in this house you have made it clear how wonderful you think you are. All your witty comments and snooty looks hardly made us think the same. You're nothing but a spoiled princess who can't see past the end of her turned up nose. I can't stand your deception. I want you to know how you're not any more special than any other girl Fred runs around with. You're just a girl on his long list. That's all you are. In fact, he doesn't even care about you like he does the others."

"Minnie!" Gwen had seemed to opt out of the conversation, supposing it would remain between the two of us, but this set her off. "Don't—"

"Let her," I told her. My calm face hardly reflected my inside feelings. Her insults would have rung true a few weeks ago, but now they stung even more because I _knew_ they were not accurate. "Keep going, Minnie," I said, my voice dangerously low.

"Gladly," she replied.

"Minnie, don't you—"

Again Gwen was interrupted, this time by Minnie. "She's going to find out soon anyway, it might as well be now." She turned back to me. "I suppose your mind has been too occupied with thoughts of yourself to realize why Fred agreed to marry you in the first place."

My eyes involuntarily widened at this. Apparently she did know more than was good, but I was not about to stop her. I didn't reply, too busy containing my emotions.

"He never planned on marrying you. He never wanted to. He made that deal with your father for his own reasons. He was sick and tired of the way you insulted and spurned every man that sought your hand just like the rest of us were. When you offended Adam at the last ball he resolved to give you a taste of your own medicine."

I stared at her blankly, hardly knowing what to think.

"Don't you get it, princess?" Minnie was enjoying this far too much. "Everything Fred has done, including rescuing you and being nice to you, is because he _wants_ you to fall in love with him so he can throw it back in your face by rejecting you the way you did his brother. So don't think you are so special. You're not."

My stare turned into a gape and the only thing I could think of to ask was, "Who is his brother?"

Gwen again tried to silence Minnie, but Minnie would not be stopped in her triumph. "King Adam of Durant or as you so famously and cruelly put it, King Thrushbeard."

I sucked for breath, my insides a whirlwind of emotion and confusion and realization.

"That's right, princess. Fred, who you have always treated like a peasant is really no peasant at all. He's Prince Nathaniel Fredrick of Durant. He only lets his _true_ friends know this secret. Obviously, you will never make it to that short list."

My initial inclination was to disbelieve it. Minnie was speaking in a fit of envy and anger. She could say anything. However, the more the idea settled, the more I could not reject it as false. Prince Nathaniel. That man from my garden. Fred. The images and incidents flashed in my mind. The clothing was different, the situation far from similar, but the person…I gulped. My breath was coming out in deeper intakes. I could only see the blended colors of the rug on the floor.

Prince Nathaniel and Fred were one and the same.

Fred.

Prince Nathaniel of Durant.

Prince Nathaniel _Fred_rick of Durant.

Of course it explained so much. It explained everything from Lawrence's loyalty, to his incredible skill at the waltz. Why had I been so stupid as to not notice this before?

"You've upset her," Gwen's voice was reproachful. "Minnie, I really never expected this of you."

"It's the truth," defended Minnie. Her voice was not as confident as before. "You won't deny it and neither will Fred."

"Yes, but it wasn't _your_ place to inform her."

I felt Gwen's arms come around in a tender hug. I remained stiff, not looking anywhere but the floor. She murmured some comforting words, but I did not hear them. Gwen had not denied Minnie's claims. That obviously confirmed my own reeling thoughts. My mind collected around another awareness that would have staggered me, had I been standing.

It had all be a ruse. A deception.

If what Minnie said was true, then Fred's intentions were clear. He didn't want me to meet his sister; that had been the excuse. He wanted me to spend as much time with him as possible, hoping I would be idiot enough to fall for his charms like every other girl out there. It had worked.

I had allowed myself to be coerced into playing tag, picking cherries, and partaking of stolen tarts. All of these innocent games had slowly broken away my cold heart and allowed me to feel affection. But every moment had been part of a plot that would end in my disgrace.

Aspen's footsteps darted into the room and her excited voice caught everyone's attention, "They're here! Fred's back! Lily and the doctor are here!"

Minnie arose from her feet, peeking through the curtains to see out the window. She turned to me and as a final farewell before leaving the room said, "You'll see."

Yes, I would see. With a sudden resolve descending close to a rashness I stood up from Gwen's hug. I nearly stomped over the front door and jerked it open. A young girl abruptly ended her excited running. She gasped as she caught sight of me, her wide eyes were blue, but with enough similarity to connect with her royal brother's.

"Princess Ruthia!" she gushed.

I gave her a quick, cold look. Yes, she was adorned in a fluffy pink gown complete with lace and jewels pinned into her sandy curls. She was definitely princess material.

"At last, we meet Princess Lily," was all I could think of to say. What I really wanted to do was rant and yell at her brother with the worst words that could enter my mind. Any accusation would do so long as he understood how upset I was.

There he was, hustling an older man with the signature black bag of a physician from their carriage and down the walkway. Our eyes met and the smile on his face withered into a worried and confused crumple. Oh, he had plenty of cause to be concerned. His precious plan to humiliate the haughty princess had failed.

"I'm going, I'm going," griped the older man, as he hobbled past me and Lily. "Your rushing won't change much you know."

Fred didn't bother to respond as he stopped at the door step waiting for me to say something. I realized Princess Lily had been talking non- stop this whole time, but also fell silent as she slowly grasped the fact that I was not welcoming her or her brother.

"Is something wrong?" he wondered. It was far too innocent a question.

I honestly tried to make all those words and screams and charges come out, but they didn't. Just an exasperated, defeated gush of air came out. Suddenly I just wanted to get away. I wanted to place as much distance between him and I as possible. The explosion I had counted on would not do justice to what I was feeling.

Nothing would.

I spun back into the house and snatched up my journal from where I had left it, nearly squashing Aspen's kitten in the process. When I faced the doorway again Fred was only six inches from, and his hands grasped my shoulders before I could take another step.

"What is it, Ruth?"

"YOU!" I bellowed. I even startled myself. I hadn't used such volume since my capture and the outburst was unsettling. In my mind that summed everything up and I tried to wriggle past him, but his grip only tightened.

"What do you mean? What have I done?" His confusion sounded genuine but I knew better. Couldn't he admit right then that his sister was a princess? Was he still acting like he was just Fred the odd man, the _fool_?

I threw a question back at him. "Do you _enjoy_ humiliating people? Is that another one of your hobbies or talents as an odd man? Or is life as the younger prince so dreadful that you have to go around making other people's lives miserable as well?"

He leaned back, the puzzlement dissipating from his face. "Ruthia…I knew you'd be upset about my true identity, but I don't see how…"

"What about your plan?" I barked. I could feel my energy draining. I didn't want to continue this. I had to get away. In the moment where realization dawned in his slow mind and face I tore away from him and practically ran out the door.

"Ruth, please listen to me! I can explain!"

"No," I snapped. "I'm tired of listening to you. I don't believe you anymore. Everything you've told me is a lie."

"That's not true!" Fred insisted. His brows were scrunched with frustration, and it reminded me of all the times he had frustrated me. He tried to reach for my hand, but I darted it to behind my back.

"Stop it!" my tone was near yelling. "Don't come near me. I won't be further humiliated. I'm leaving. Don't follow me. I never want to see you again."

"Ruth, that's unreasonable, you know—"

That made me explode. "Then I'm unreasonable! I'm spoiled and rude! I'm pompous and anything else you think I am. I don't care! I hate you!"

With these final words I turned, and down the path, clutching my journal to my chest. He was wise enough not to follow me past the gate, even though he kept calling. Choking back the tears, I managed to maneuver through the town to where I had seen the carriage with Luzcando's insignia so many weeks ago. It was still there, and I nearly staggered to the door. Sir Mark opened it moments later, and it took all my strength not to collapse into his arms and burst into tears.

"You're Highness!"

"Take me home. This instant."

"Yes, yes of course." He dashed to the stables. Unwilling to be seen for a further moment, I crawled into the carriage before he returned with a boy and the horses.

I crumpled onto the seat and buried my head in my arms, and allowed my tear ducts to overflow.

It hurt. The pain became physical as a headache slowly began to develop. It hurt even more because I was not crying because I was humiliated. I could take humiliation. After all, I, Princess Ruthia Lynet Salvadora, had gone through capture, a marriage contract with a stranger, working in a chicken coop, begging, and so much more. That had all been degrading and I was over that.

No, it was not the shameful embarrassment of being tricked into Fred's appalling plan that distressed me so much. It was because all the happiness and hope I had been experiencing was pure deception. Fred was never truly interested in me. The games and compliments he gave me were all a fake ruse. The kiss that seemed so sincere and exhilarating was…just a sham. The worst of it was that even though I knew it was all a fraud…

I utterly and irreversibly in love with Fred, Prince of Durant.

* * *

Durant. Luzcando. Wood. Vale. Hamlet. Metropolis. They all became one and the same to me in that monotonous drive. When Sir Mark tried to stop at an inn, I instructed him to continue into the night. Those were the only words I spoke, though my weeping was sufficient. I couldn't sleep for the rutted road and my own muddled mind offered no relaxation. The whole journey was a terrible tossing and turning of heart, soul, mind, body, and anything else.

The castle was not even a welcome view, and my sad mood only darkened as I felt another urge of tears coming on. In my wearied state I managed to get away from all servants who would receive me. They knew who I was, even in my wretched attire and my awful expression spoke more than orders could do. I felt sure I could reach my bedroom and hide myself from the world, but dreaded all the stares, whispers, and inquires to my health.

"Ruthia, my dear!" my father's voice was more of an echo. I hardly caught the excitement and concern in his face and voice. Blurred by my tears, I nearly missed the first step to the marble stairway. The mistake caused a stubbed toe. Embarrassment and frustration pushed more tears out, worsening my vision.

"Don't talk to me!" I screamed. "Don't let _anyone_ talk to me!"

Somehow I managed to reach my bedroom without seeing too many gawking maids. I did not appreciate the cleanness or vastness of my quarters. I could not smell the orchid aroma or drift of chocolate that would surely be in the mahogany vanity. I hardly cared if the bed was satin or woolen as I threw myself upon the surface and fully gave vent to my emotions. The tears and wails continued for an eternity before hiccups and sniffs took their place. I hardly noticed when a dreamless sleep enveloped me in a dull darkness of ultimate sorrow.


	22. In Which Ruthia Does Not Narrate

**Special thanks to the the guest, _OzarkMaid_ for the most recent and encouraging review. :)  
**

**I hope you still like Prince Nathaniel (Fred).  
**

**Chapter 21: In Which Ruthia Does Not Narrate**

Rose pink and light lavender. These are the colors that encircled me at the moment. Out of all the outrageous shades in this bizarre world, why did Princess Katelyn settle on rose pink and light lavender for her wedding colors? It was a question I doubt I even wanted an answer for. In the flurry midst of the wedding preparation, I had been selected to sign and address the invitations. Adam had said he appointed me because I was best at forging his signature, but I knew he wanted me to activate my hands and mind in a project other than moping about.

However, the hourly exposure to these hues was certainly having an effect on my eyes and mind. Surely, there could be a scientific study done on why pink and purple were not healthy for a young man in such heavy doses. But, who was I to protest? Adam and his fiancé would be far too occupied with each other to allow an argument out of anyone who had already been assigned a task.

The wedding had come on rather unexpectedly since the courtship between my brother and the young princess had occurred while I was away. The news of their relationship came only when I met Lily and the doctor on the road. Apparently the beautiful girl had mended my elder brother's broken heart. People said Princess Katelyn's lighter features of gold, blue and pale presented the Luzcandian princess with a contrasting competitor.

There. I'd done it again.

Although I was buried brow high in a sea of names, addresses, and the dreadful colors my mind insisted on drifting to Luzcando and their eldest princess. I could be concentrating on something as random as blue woolen blankets and she would wiggle her way into the equation because…well, her eyes were of the same color. Thankfully a knock on the door distracted me enough to not get too caught up in her image.

"Come in."

The page boy that was appointed to my charge peeked in before slipping inside. He was newer than a wet butterfly and still not ready to fly with confidence, still he was willing.

"Uh…sir. There is someone here to see you?"

It almost amused me how he often ended his statements with the escalating sound of inquiry. Normally I would have ushered the guest in immediately. However, I was determined to complete this absurd task as soon as possible and my mood did not include entertaining visitors.

"Tell them to wait another hour."

"Um…sir?" The page boy obviously didn't like the answer but did not want to argue. "He…is not very happy? He won't wait an hour."

My curiosity was peaked. "Who is it?"

Before the lad could reply the door swung open behind him and he nearly yelped as the visitor showed himself in. My own eyes widened in something akin to terror as I recognized the raging face of King Carlos of Luzcando.

"Prince Nathaniel!" he bellowed. I stood promptly and practically saluted. His tone had a striking resemblance to my military commander from my eighteenth year. Before I could address him, he had stepped up to my face. His blazing eyes were as blue as his daughter's and were quite intimidating even though he stood a good six inches below me. "Would you care to have the decency to explain _what_ exactly you did to my daughter?"

"Eh? Well…" My fumbling words were embarrassing. Stammering was not my normal condition. "What exactly has she told you?"

"Nothing!" His hands barely missed my person as they flew up in exasperation. I managed to inch back a step. "She has not said a word about anything that has happened. She staunchly ignores and avoids that whole topic. It took her days to stop bursting into tears whenever we tried to mention it! She has finally controlled her emotions but absolutely refuses to acknowledge her experiences in any way, shape, or form. I cannot stand it anymore. I have come to hear it from you. What happened? What did you do?"

I wanted to crumple into my seat. She had been crying? I had never seen that side of the strong princess, and it was a guilt stab to know I had been the cause. I settled my eyes on the wearied face of the king. Despite his daughter's previous tempers and difficulties he obviously cared deeply for her. As it should have been. To have come all this way for such answer in such a temper deserved the whole truth.

"I confess I was not completely honest with you, sir."

King Carlos thinned his eyes. I could not help but be grateful that the aging monarch did not have his sword about him. Although, I realized ruefully, there were more than one way a protective father could show his anger.

"When I told I wanted to help you break Ruthia's pride, I did not give you my motive or the means this would happen. I told you that I would make her work, yes, and live like a peasant. I did this. It worked. However, this was only partially the plan." I paused significantly. "Would you like a chair?"

He did not twitch. "Continue."

I sighed. There was no way out of this one. I prayed he was more forgiving than his daughter. "My elder brother, Adam, was in love with Ruthia. As she grew in fame, he grew in desperation. He went to every ball she was at and attempted to dance with her every song. He would have painters paint portraits and would throw them out if they did not match her "perfect" features enough. He would write poetry and strum on the lute and sing out of tune about her beauty and qualities. It was as though he were under a spell. He could talk about her for days and scheme of ways to win her hand.

"For a younger brother who did not care about a single woman this behavior was maddening. When we received your invitation to the last ball as a chance to be selected by her, he was dizzy with delight. Fearing he might do something rash, I went along. When she rejected him, and publicly humiliated him with the name of Thrushbeard…Sir, it broke his heart. He refused comfort, food, and distractions. After seeing what happened to him, seeing what she did to him…I can truly say I hated her. For I knew Adam was not a singular case. Dozens of other men seemed to go mad for supposed love of the most beautiful woman in the land, Princess Ruthia of Luzcando.

"This is what prompted me to go to you with the plan of reducing her pride. However, I did not tell you that I was doing it as payback. Forgive me, but I have always been talented at winning the ladies' approval and affection. I was confident that given the right circumstances and conversations I could win her heart. I would do this as Fred the Fool as she learned the peasant ways. And…when I had it in my hands, I planned on breaking it just as cruelly as she had done to so many others, including Adam."

I shook my head, disgusted at myself. I had been arrogant and rash for revenge. "She found out from another source the core of my plan. That is why she is so upset, sir. She is humiliated and Ruthia will not stand for disgrace."

King Carlos had softened his features as my story progressed. I did not expect him to condone or understand my base actions, but his next comment revealed he comprehended very well. "Is it not ironic, that you yourself fell for my daughter's charms? That is why you would not carry out _that_ plan given the chance."

My eyes glimpsed over his steady azure gaze before focusing on the floor. I nodded. "Ay, sir, it is ironic."

"What is even _more _ironic is that your plan was accomplished!"

"Sir?"

"You mentioned she returned home in tears because you humiliated her. I submit that she is actually heart-broken. She believes your affections are only part of a vicious plan and not genuine. She _has_ fallen in love with you, Prince Nathaniel. Your plan worked!"

I sat there, stunned. However, the moment passed and I shook my head. "Forgive me, sir, but I do not agree with you. She may have had fun yes. We could even be called friends, but I doubt she truly loves me, at least, not anymore. The final words I heard from her was a vow of utter hatred."

"That was her passion and confusion speaking," insisted the stout monarch. "She has said many things she did not truly mean. Surely _you_ have seen this."

"I thank you for your optimism, sir, in an attempt to comfort me, sir," I stated firmly, "But I cannot find it in my heart to assume that Ruthia will forgive my vile actions. At least…not yet."

King Carlos shook his head as his face wrinkled into disgust. "You are as stubborn as she is. Ah, what have I to do with your lover's spat? Bah! Young love is always foolish.  
Very well, lad, I take my leave of you. I am pleased to hear that you have repented of your pride and pathetic plan. I will not tell Ruthia of my trip, nor of your obvious love. I'll let you two blind bats figure that out yourselves."

He turned away, muttering more calumnies against naïve stubborn lovers. I smiled within as I admitted willingly that I truly enjoyed the old king of Luzcando.

"Wait!" I called out before he could disappear beyond the door. He poked his head back in, an edgy look beginning to rise in his eyes. No doubt he had had enough me. Still, I shuffled through the stacks of envelopes until I had located a lavender invitation. I hurried forward and pressed it to his hand. "Let me save a few pennies of postage, eh good king?"

He glanced down at it; a smile befitting a benevolent and long-suffering monarch graced his wrinkled features. "Ay, thanks then. I suppose my daughters will be happy with the extra time to pack their countless bags for the celebration." He sighed, shaking his head as if he already pictured the buzz his young female offspring would make over a royal wedding.

I knew Princesses Loretta and Esther would come, dragging their husbands if need be; but of the eldest, I had no hope.

* * *

When King Carlos Salvadoro returned to the castle, and stepped down from the carriage he was reminded once more why he had ambassadors to go abroad for him. He stretched his aching back and let out a slight grunt of pain. The passing years were not being agreeable with him, and he was not eager to admit to this. Walking carefully up the front steps he was startled to hear raised voices within.

The guards, stiff and proper, opened the doors for him and the clamor increased to a pitch. Carlos put a hand to his head; if this noise continued he'd soon get a headache. Luckily the source of the argument came into view, and he was astonished to find his eldest daughter, Ruthia, disputing with the head cook, who seemed just as adamant. He could not understand the nature of their disagreement, but knew their high tones would soon make him deaf.

"Silence!" he roared in his best kingly voice.

Ruthia turned, startled at his presence and immediately stepped up to him, indignation flashing though her dark blue eyes. Her brows were furrowed with frustration, and her hands were placed firmly on her hips.

"Father!" she declared. "You have arrived at a most timely moment. This impossible sir refuses to let me into the kitchens! They are my domain are they not? Why am I blocked from going into the kitchens?"

"She wants to _cook_, your majesty," protested the head cook, looking purely offended that such an idea should enter her imperial head. "Please inform your head strong daughter that the kitchen is for cooks, _not_ princesses."

"And to _add_ to that," continued Ruthia completely ignoring the perturbed chef. "They've hidden all the cleaning supplies! My room was rather dusty, so I went to fetch a duster. I couldn't find them in their usual spot. The servants have _hidden_ them from me! I even asked politely, but still they refused." She was sincerely exasperated with the insistent servants.

"My dear Ruth," responded Carlos, trying to soothe her. "You don't need to be cooking and cleaning. That is the servants' jobs. You are the princess."

"If I'm the princess then I should be allowed to do as I wish. I wish to do _something_! I wish to clean my own apartments! I wish to bake a pie! If I don't do _something_ I shall go mad with boredom!"

She threw up her hands to add to the dramatic effect of her words then promptly crossed them. Her glare took in the staunch cook and her thoughtful father in turn. King Carlos was unsure what to do. He had dealt with her tantrums before, on many occasions, but never of this nature. If he said yes, she would be happy, but the servants would not only be out of their job, but feel scandalous that the princess was doing their chores. If he refused her she would howl in indignation and demand justice. He would go deaf!

"My dear Ruthia, let us come to a compromise," he said this rather nervously, knowing she _despised_ compromises. As was expected she thinned her eyes with wariness, but did not voice any objection to the idea. "You will be allowed to cook to your heart's content, but you will not be allowed to clean. The servants must maintain their work, but you may have full use of the kitchen to carry out your…new hobby."

The chef looked mortified, but Ruthia, after pondering for a moment, nodded. The king felt a surge of relief and triumph when he saw her beautiful pleased smile spreading across her features.

"It is a goodly compromise, Father," she said. "I agree, as long as the cook accepts me whole-heartedly and does not say another word about princesses not belonging in kitchens." She turned victorious expectant eyes on the cook, who looked like he still wanted to put up a fight. After a silent internal struggle he threw up his hands.

"Very well! I say no more! No more! _But_ I insist my people clean up whatever messes her highness happens to make!" He was even more startled and aghast when the royal princess threw her arms around his neck in thanks. He tried to object that her highness should not show such affection to a lowly cook, but she would hear none of it.

King Carlos chuckled to himself. He half wished the Prince Nathaniel was there to see the episode, which showed fully how his eldest daughter had altered. He only half wished this because he knew if the Prince of Durant had been there, the noise in the palace would have increased tenfold and he wanted a nap at the moment.


	23. Daddy and Dancing

**To those who do not review, please reconsider this one time. It's my birthday. :)  
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**I know you were all looking forward to the wedding, but this is an important chapter too.  
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**Chapter 22: Daddy and Dancing**

Father was adamant.

I was going to learn about the affairs of the kingdom. He had given up on asking me about anything concerning my absence and instead focused on preparing me to becoming the future leader of Luzcando. I was thankful for his former decision, but extremely wary of his new plot.

"I still don't understand this silly rule about the eldest being the heir. Why can't one of the twins take charge?"

"Ruthia, you know Loretta's husband is an idiot and Esther and Kyle are far too blissful with their own family to be concerned with a whole kingdom. You are unattached and therefore you are my only offspring eligible to take the throne when I am gone. Would you rather I hand it over to your cousin Alfredo?"

"The one whose face looks like the sauce he is named for?" My nose involuntarily rose in contempt. Family or not, that man was repulsive. "Very well," I conceded with a gallant gesture, "I will save the kingdom from his grubby paws."

Since my old hobby of tormenting servants was out of the question, I had indulged in attempting to master the kitchen. But I did not have Marta's skill, and so threw myself heartily into learning everything Father dumped in my lap. I devoured the history books and pieced together the puzzling politics among the maddening nobles of our land. What idiots existed! Why were they so obsessed with power, revenge, money, and humiliation? I was especially grateful for the extensive tips Father gave me on how to avoid their manipulations. It was a wonder they had not taken over the Royal House of Salvadoro.

It was while I perused the foreign lands and our peace conditions with them that I became especially enthralled with geography. Luzcando was in possession of five territories that were taxed regularly and her greatest assets. They had their own royalty but they were merely head figures and served more as ambassadors than commanders. Father called them the complainers. I drilled Father on every dot and symbol of the map and was amazed to learn of the many charming locations in my kingdom. He told me of giant waterfalls, snowy mountains, thick jungles, and even an elephant farm.

"What purpose do the elephants serve?"

"They gave rides to tourists and the owners live in luxury. Way back in their history, I believe they used them for war."

"Odd."

"Oh, yes, most people are."

I smiled wistfully as I suddenly mused, _But not as odd as Fred. _It was a brief thought but it stung like the prick of needle. "I've heard stories about this territory, Galia," I declared, in an effort to distract my wandering mind, and tapped the smallest province that lay farthest south from the main Luzcando. "Rosa once told me that is where the disreputable ladies come from. Did she mean they are more rebellious?"

Father, ever the gentleman, blushed. "Er…Rosa had a different meaning, m'dear. They have a high rate of…eh…naughty girls there. Very atrocious. Very barbaric, that Galia. Although there is a program currently employed that enrolls these girls. They teach them how to dance respectable ballets and present them all over the land in order to make money and better their lives."

"Money. Everything is about that, isn't it?" My disgust was obvious.

"Speaking of which, I believe it is time we moved on to economics."

_That_ was one subject I did not enjoy in any possible way. Despite his best efforts and considerable amount of patience Father could not explain deficit, inflation, equity, or anything else in a manner sufficient enough for my poor confused mind. After a long day of struggling, we both gave up. He agreed that I could depend on a brilliant councilor and I cringed whenever I saw a coin for days afterward.

I began to attend court again and forced myself to listen to the complaints and propositions set forth by commoners and councilmen alike. However, I was always relieved when we would take a break and be entertained. I smiled politely at the jesters and jugglers but was struggling within not to think too much upon Fred and his talents.

Nearly a month after my return a seemingly insignificant incident occurred in court. Father had called for a break, and instead of the usual jester or trickster, a set of lovely lithe girls sashayed into our presence. They performed an intricate yet simple dance to a lively folk song. I was fascinated. However, before their song could end, Father clapped his hands abruptly and forcefully.

"That is enough! You are dismissed!"

They stumbled in surprise and after glancing at one another nervously, they tip-toed away, wondering how their innocent performance had upset the king. I was curious too. A part of me guessed the answer, but I had to inquire. As a trio of young troubadours began singing a boring ballad, I arose from my seat. I carefully picked up my father's feet from the cushion below him and sat down. He stared down at me, bewildered.

"Why did you send the dancers away?" I asked softly.

He blinked. His eyes darted away. Finally he sighed. "I could not bear the sight any longer. They reminded me too much of Eva… your mother."

I felt a pang ignite my heart.

"She was a dancer, you know. That is how I met her. I saw her dancing and…well, I'm sure you know what it feels like to be in love." He smiled a bit mischievously. Despite my blush, I gave him my best scowl. He cleared his throat and continued quickly. "In any case I used to love every dancing performance that came by. I'm not sure if you remember, but it was dancing that caused her death."

No, I had not known that. As an eight year old I only remembered the doctors huddling around her in a dark room. Mother had told them to open the curtains and let in the light, but they told her she needed to sleep. Indignant, I yanked them open myself. One of the physicians had tried to drag me from the room, but I bit his hand. Ever gentle, mother hadn't even scolded me. She hugged me from her prone position and told me to be a sweet lady and to make sure Loretta and Esther were behaving. She promised to talk to me again. She died before the day was out.

I shook my head slowly, returning my attention to Father. "I did not know that," I replied simply.

He sighed once more and concentrated on his fiddling hands. "She was practicing. She fell. Nothing broke, but… she bled within and we could do nothing. I do not regret letting her dance, nor am I bitter against all dancers. I simply become too sad to watch them for long."

There was a long pause. Only the ballad droned on, completely unaware that we were not paying the slightest attention. Finally I leaned forward and took his hand. Hesitantly yet with conviction I asked, "Would you be willing to let _me_ dance?"

He jerked his head up, astonishment filling his face. "You? You wish to dance?"

I nodded eagerly. It was as if the idea had been brewing in my mind for months, fed with the events of my adventure. The happiness at those dances on straw and the time I tapped my foot to the music at the market place and thought of my mother; it all made sense now.

"Yes, Father, I wish to dance."

He gave another one of his sad dramatic sighs. "Well, I shan't oppose you. It will make me happy to know that your mother's legacy is carried on in you. Go on. Go talk to the Madam of those who just performed. I'm sure she shan't refuse you lessons."

Gleeful, I leapt to my feet and skidded down to where a woman dressed in refined red and brown was murmuring to her crew of girls. As I approached I heard her saying, "…don't understand why he continues to ask us to perform only to brush us away before we are finished. I…" she started at my tap and turned.

We both gasped. She more from dread, and I was merely surprised. I broke the moment by sweeping into a perfect curtsy and said politely, "Good day, Madam Catalina."

It was indeed, my poor etiquette teacher from so long ago. She stammered out an appropriate reply.

"Forgive my father. He can only stand so much awesomeness. However, I was thoroughly impressed with the performance your girls gave. I was wondering if you'd be willing to take on another student."

She had quickly gotten over her shock and curtsied in return. "Thank you. I shall be delighted to teach anyone willing. What is the lady's name?"

"Princess Ruthia."

Madam Catalina blinked.

"Myself. I wish to learn to dance."

Once more I left her stammering for an answer which could only end in acceptance. I smiled. At last, a hobby that I was thoroughly excited about.

* * *

"I think now would be an excellent time for you to explain everything."

My grip on the glass didn't even tighten, though I was careful to resist the urge to glance at my sister, Loretta, who did not cease to gaze intently at me, a knowing smile on face. They had arrived the day before, and until now, I had succeeded in skirting the sensitive topic.

The three of us sat about a tiny white tea table on one of the pavilions in the garden. The day was warm and we sipped on tall glasses of lemonade. Esther's foot gently tapped a portable crib next to her as Sofia dozed within. Our light summer dresses were not cool enough, and we had abandoned slippers, piled our hair away from our necks, and occasionally employed a fan. I considered beating about the bush with ignorance, but decided on a different tactic.

"And why is that, sweet sister? I did not realize we were following a script, and that was my cue to spill all…pray, tell the reason."

"There was a comfortable lull in our conversation," replied Loretta, without a spit of bashfulness. "And we all know we were all thinking about it in that moment. So, why just think about it, when we can voice our hidden thoughts?"

I opened my mouth to protest but Loretta cut me off, "Your eyes were clouding over with that dreamy look, again, sweet sister. Oh, and now you are blushing."

She was right, and I accepted it with a smile. "Very well. What is your general knowledge?"

Esther piped up, "We didn't even know you were gone until we visited… Father explained everything that had happened up to your capture. He even told us about his part of the plan. I was rather dubious."

"I thought it was a wonderful plan," inserted Loretta. "How else was he supposed to get you to…well find a man?"

"That wasn't the sole purpose of his plan," I replied, a little coldly. "Not everything in life is about getting a man, dear Loretta. Honestly, now that you have one, you ought to realize that."

Loretta shrugged. "Very well, it's about getting a man and _keeping_ him, which can be rather tricky at times."

"Lorie!" Esther was horrified. "You don't mean you have problems with that?"

Now it was Loretta's turn to blush. "We aren't talking about me," she all but snapped. Taking a deep breath she turned back to me. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, what happened after you were kidnapped? Prince Nathaniel rescued you, correct? Father told us that too."

"It sounded wonderfully romantic," sighed Esther. "I always wished Kyle had found me stranded and injured in the woods somewhere so he could save me."

The image of me walloping Fred upside the head with the frying pan immediately leapt to my mind and I smiled wryly. "I wouldn't describe it as being all that romantic." So, without further questions, I proceeded to narrate the adventures that had so dynamically changed my life. At first I was careful with my descriptions, not wishing to enclose too much. However, my sisters were superb listeners and I slipped into a comfortable flow in telling them nearly everything on my mind.

I expressed my absolute disgust with the chickens, and began to chuckle as I tried to imagine how ridiculous I had been. My affection for Aspen, Peter, Zeke, and the others was evident as I even illustrated their sweet smiles, whether shy or confident. I might've even hesitated in a moment of reflecting how much I missed them. However, I continued animatedly with details of the dance, from the lights, the ruddy cheeks, the music, and the smell of straw.

Rosa came in at some point and set down a dish of white chocolates, no one paid her or the delicacies a glance. She didn't return to the palace, but stood, hands on hips, staring at me with an intent look similar to the others. I could hardly keep from showing my emotions at some parts of the stories. Mostly I just laughed at my absurd behavior, or slowed when I knew I wish I could relive that single moment.

Selling pottery, spraining my ankle, the stars, playing tag, baking, picking cherries, the journal, washing dishes, water fights, singing, flirting for a bit of silk, the bee, the rude Rafael, Jess and Marta, Minnie's pettiness, Gwen's caring love, and nearly every little encounter with the incorrigible prince in disguise. I even indulged them with our dances and kiss.

Naturally they drank in every word, and never interrupted with a single question. As I neared the end, I stuttered a bit more, spoke quickly, then hardly two words. However, I revealed the full reason for my hasty departure and my devastating return, of which Rosa had been a significant part.

"During the first week or so I had hardly left my room. I refused most food, and forced myself to continue drinking. If it had not been for her, I would have stayed in the same dress the whole time. However, she made sure I bathed, cared for my tangles and attempted to eat the food. Sometimes she pleaded with me to speak, to smile, to eat. She yelled and threatened, bribed and spoke as logically as possible. I heard every word, but barely wished to pay attention or take her advice."

"It hurt to see you like that," inserted Rosa quietly. I smiled at her, touched by her comment. I remembered her words which finally triggered me to leave my room and external sorrow.

"Pobrecita," she had crooned, as she brushed my hair one morning. "You are much changed yes, but don't let your sorrow alter you. Your father and I are so worried. Can't you see how quiet and sad you are? You use to be so confident…now…it's as if something broke. Heartaches come and go, Ruthia, but life goes on. The sun still shines, and we go on dancing and singing. Please, won't you shine like you did before?"

Her simplicity had struck an internal chord that allowed me to begin to let go of my extreme grief.

"Well!" exclaimed Loretta breaking my musings. "It sounds wonderfully terrible."

Esther hit the mark closer to the heart when she asked, "What are you going to do now? You can't just forget about him and pretend all this never happened."

"No," I replied. "I won't forget. I'll just move on. I'm not going to do anything about it. I most certainly will not be crawling back to his presence to beg his love! That's exactly what he wants! He doesn't love me, Esther. It's not romantic and quit thinking it should be. Not everyone's love story is as beautiful as yours." I almost said this last part bitterly, remembering how secretly envious I was of Esther and Kyle's relationship. I was sure they never had a single tiny argument and were always sneaking winks and smiles at each other.

Her face fell and she did not say another word as Father had entered our party. He ambled slowly toward us. It was not a leisurely approach, but careful and weary. I was again struck with how old he was getting. Honestly, it scared me.

"There you lovely ladies are."

"Hello, Father," we greeted him in unison.

He let out a grunt as he settled into a white, cushioned chair beside me. "I have news for you. You all have reason to pack your bags with your expensive gowns and think of presents."

"Is there a birthday party?" wondered Loretta, instantly excited.

"Or a wedding," wondered Esther eagerly. "Who is it, Father? Who is getting married? I _love _weddings!"

He tossed a light lavender envelope onto the table and my sisters dove for it simultaneously. I smiled slightly as they tugged on it for a moment before Esther sat back triumphantly with the letter in her hand. She delicately sliced it open and gave a delighted squeal. Only she could make squeals like that and sound sweet and not screeching.

"It _is_ a wedding announcement! Oh, oh! It's lovely! Look who it is!"

Impatient, Loretta snatched it from her to see for herself. Esther surprisingly turned to me. "It's Adam and Katelyn! Nathaniel's brother! Oh, Ruthia dear, this is _perfect_. You can see him at the wedding and everything will be fine. And to think Father came right when he did. Oh, it's just too perfect!"

I stared at her. Adam and Katelyn? King Thrushbeard and my once upon a time rival? I suddenly remembered the incident in the street when Princess Katelyn did not recognize me. She was going to visit the King of Durant. Of course we were invited, but I half wondered if there was side note that said they did _not_ want the eldest princess coming and making things awkward. After all Minnie had said King Thrushbeard (I couldn't help but think of him as such) was in love with me. Surely neither the ever jealous Katelyn nor her fiancé would want to see me.

"Father!" Loretta's tone was admonishing. "The wedding is next weekend!"

Father cowered slightly as his shoulders slunk in guiltily. "I confess I have had it for a month now and simply forgot to tell you. Aren't you glad I didn't forget for another week?"

"It's all right," assured Esther. "I already know what I am going to wear! I just need to figure out my hair…Loretta! You can wear your matching dress and we can confuse people again!"

"We aren't six, Esther," snapped Loretta.

"Oh, but it would be so fun! You need to lighten up anyway!"

"I'm lighter than you!"

"Just because I haven't quite gotten rid of my pregnancy weight…"

I zoned out about then. As quietly as possible I slipped from chair and walked away. I think only Father noticed. I made my way up to my room and listlessly shuffled around in circles. My gown made rustling movements on the carpet and Pixie, my cat, purred on my giant of a bed.

Fred usually occupied my thoughts in moments like this, and today more than usual. Should I attend this wedding? The betrayal had certainly taken its toll on me, but I felt that the pain was deadened by time, and by the sorrow I had already felt. The confidence I had once felt in myself was cut in half by this blow, and I wasn't sure what to do to get it back.

Leaning against the rail of my balcony, my eyes trailed a bird that zipped through the azure sky in a rush of ecstasy. A shield of billowing, drifting clouds protected the bright sun that nevertheless illuminated the world and warmed my skin. A deep breathe revealed the richness of the flower garden directly below me. The distant hum of the market was clearly audible, and I realized my lips were smiling.

But of course. How could I allow such an incident to completely darken and dominate my life? The pain would always be there, but that did not mean _I_ had to show it forth. I would go, and I would accept whatever occurred there. I would show Fred that he was not strong enough to affect my continuing with life. I would continue to do the things I had learned to love. The city was peeking out of the high trees by the palace walls and the buzz seemed to grow louder, calling. This broadened my smile, and I pulled back into my room, my decision determined.

In a manner of minutes I was outside the castle walls dressed in the disguise of a country damsel. I had even managed to wrap my hair in a handkerchief. Father would have been scandalized if he knew I was in the town without a body guard. However, as an equally responsible monarch, I felt at ease with my rather rash decision.

The city was alive with activity. As the capital of Luzcando, it was a continual rush of commerce and excitement. I had explored it before, but it had been from the delicately cushioned seat of a carriage. I walked along the main road, careful to avoid any suspicious side streets. Every now and again I would glance back, and reassure myself that the castle was still looming huge and easy to find.

"Fresh baked pies!"

"Watches! Gold, silver, copper! All accustomed to your station. It's _time _to get one!"

"Anybody, anybody, anybody? Live chickens, geese, turkeys, pheasant, duck…"

"Step right up! Be one of the first to view the most amazing heart stopping stunt you will ever lay eyes upon!"

I was nearly dizzy with the sounds that accompanied the hustle and bustle of business. People smiled, greeted, yelled, bumped, murmured, exchanged, and laughed. They were lounging, trotting, ambling, stopping, staring, persuading, and ignoring. I was in the category of ambling, staring, and ignoring. Whether intentionally or unconsciously, I know not, but I found myself moving towards the distant sound of music.

It was not long before the source came into sight. The road widened as it split into three other branches. In the center of this broadening was a small group of musicians. A glance at their lean noses and broad smiles, one could tell they were all related. The old man bounced his bow upon a fiddle while his grandsons employed flute, drums, shakers, and guitar. The youngest, a tiny boy of about eight sang in a high strong voice about a summer that did not end and a boy who could not frown.

I was instantly captivated. The fiddle and flute, the tapping and tilting lyrics brought a rush of memories and feelings. I closed my eyes and drank in the wave. I could almost taste the cherries, feel the straw beneath my feet and envision my mother twirling like a summer tempest. Before I knew it, _I _was twirling.

None of Madam Catalina's instructions were guiding me, just the music. I swayed and dipped, leapt and leaned. The music wrapped around my limbs and I became a puppet to the tune. Miraculously, I never stumbled or bumped into anything. It was as if the city had cleared away and I was dancing in a meadow of violets with the birds and wind to accompany me.

It was over far sooner than I would have liked. I was suddenly aware of the intense silence that surrounded me. I peeked my eyes open and was horrified to find that I had halted before the band and had created a silent staring crowd. It was one terrifying embarrassing split second before the gawking turned into gales of clapping and cheering.

What had just happened? I curtsied awkwardly and tried to back quickly away. Someone pushed and pulled me back into the middle. Why?! Coins dotted the air as proof of the audience's appreciation and the musician's little boy eagerly darted around to collect them.

"That was the best addition we've ever had, lass. We thank thee heartily."

I looked up quickly at the old fiddler who had come to my side. I blushed, unsure what to say. It was not my intention to add to anything.

"You can come around anytime, you'd like."

This time my eyes collided with the young flute player. His eyes twinkled and sparkled with amusement and admiration. He winked. Fred would have done the same thing. I smiled brightly and cocked my head.

"Don't expect it," I told him dryly.

"Surprises are also welcome," he rejoined, his grin never failing. I had to get away before his parallels to Fred drove me to a new bout of tears. The old fiddler saved me by taking my hand and pouring a considerable amount of dusty coins into it.

"We've never brought in such a profit, lass, and it is only right that you partake in it."

"I don't want it!"

"You must."

"I can't!"

"You will."

"Got an allergy to money?" The young one again pushed in with his teasing grin and bright eyes.

"No," I shot back, "Just cocky flutists."

"Come around again, and I'll give you the remedy," he quipped.

I bit down my wistful smile and turned back to the aged one. "Sir, really I don't want to…"

"No point in arguing, lass."

It was true. So I dumped the stash into those convenient peasant pockets and curtsied with the gratefulness and politeness of a true princess. Before the flutist could flash another flirtation, I slipped away and skipped out of sight.

Before I could conjure up a plan for the unwanted sum I caught sight of a solution. A tiny girl, not much younger than Aspen, stood on the corner between a fruit stand and a fish peddler. Her sandy braid was loose and her patient green eyes clung to every person that passed her way. She held a huge basket filled to the brim with…of course….violets.

I crossed over to her quickly and bent to her level. Her emerald eyes brightened and she stuttered out her selling phrase, "Violets? Violets for the…the… lady? They are fre-fresh and love-lovely."

"Yes, please," I replied. "I'd like a small bouquet to adorn my table tonight."

She set the basket down and slowly, carefully, adoringly, plucked out enough to make a neat posy. She handed it up to me with a smile. I clasped every coin in my pocket. "Hold out both your hands."

She did, and I slid the money into them. Her eyes fluttered with surprise and she tried to tell me that the amount was too much, but I just squeezed her shoulder slightly, smiled and walked away.

* * *

"Madam Catalina, I was not expecting you so soon." I was startled to find her in my parlor an hour before our appointed time. She faced me and curtsied quickly.

"Princess Ruth, you must forgive me. I have been asked to perform with my girls at the wedding of King Adam and Princess Katelyn in Durant. We are one of many shows. Dancing crews from all over are invited and it has become a sort of competition. This sudden pressure has caused me to come to you and ask that we cancel our practice for the day so that I may spend more time with my girls preparing. We will commence promptly once the event has subsided. You understand, surely?"

For a moment I was stunned, and even a trickle of bitterness escaped my heart. Was there nothing that could take my mind off that wedding? The bitterness burst when an impulsive idea enveloped my energy and eyes. I smiled brightly at Madam Catalina and nearly took her hand.

"This is wonderful!"

"It is?" she was still getting use to my uncalled for enthusiasm and no doubt wondered why I was so joyous about our cancelled lessons.

"Why yes, of course! _I _join you in your preparation. I shall be one of your dancers for the show. Come. I will go with you and learn this dance."

"But... but…princess!" Her shock was nearly palatable.

"What?"

Again she stuttered a moment, no doubt hesitant to boss the high princess by lecturing of proper places and procedures, remembering my previous reactions. I saved her.

"I know princesses are not normally found in dancing crews, but what else am I to use my dancing lessons for? It is my sincere desire to participate in this. Please. I will confirm it with my father. Unless…you think this is too sudden and my skills are not quite up to par…"

"No, no, your highness!" Madam Catalina was adamant. "You will be an excellent addition to our party. I welcome you gladly. Only…I hope the girls won't find it awkward and strange having royalty there."

"We will keep my identity a secret. I can pass off as a distant cousin to the royal family Salvadoro if any questions should arrive. That will be better. I don't want them to be uncomfortable."

She agreed. I now had my own reasons for feeling extra excited about the upcoming nuptials. I knew I had to face Princess Katelyn and King Adam (was it horrid of me that I still thought of him as Thrushbeard?) and apologize for my previous pathetic behavior. Also…I had to face his brother. At least, I _hoped_ I would face him. It was my deepest darkest fear that it this would not happen. I feared it would be awkward and very unproductive. Perhaps I would rapidly descend back into the pit of misery that I had experienced only while ago. No, no. I had to face him. I had to see him once more, no matter how unpleasant it could become.


	24. The Scarlet Snake and the Lilac Lady

**Here's a particularly long chapter. There was quite a bit of pressure about the meeting between Fred and Ruthia. I hope this was satisfactory. If so, please tell me. If not, please scold me.  
**

**Chapter 22: The Scarlet Snake and the Lilac Lady**

It did not surprise me when Father pulled me aside later and informed me that he would not be attending the wedding. It was not a surprise, but it was not welcome either.

"Why not?" The idea of Father not being there was like the disappearance of our fortification about the castle and our guard. It made me feel vulnerable and unsure.

"It is time for your test. As the heir to the Luzcando throne you will now represent her. If anyone wishes to speak about Luzcando or her provinces they will come to you. Now will be the time for you to remember your studies and function in society as a responsible political leader."

That did not ease my fears. I was sure that the real reasons he remained was because he was not ready to watch me dance and he hated traveling.

* * *

We arrived fashionably late, just like everyone else. The wedding celebration was to be three days long, rather extravagant if one would ask me, but I was not getting married. The castle was bursting with trumpets, banners, guests, and attendants.

Rose pink and light lavender had always been Princess Katelyn's adorning colors, so when we arrived it was not a surprise to see the wedding decorations were of the same tones. It truly was a lovely sight. The actual ceremony had already taken place in the royal church, and only a tiny select few had attended. However, Queen Margret had spared no expense afterward, in displaying a lavish celebration for her eldest son and heir to the Durant throne. At last there would be a match to continue the Royal line of Rouen.

Rose petals strewed the floors of all the occupying halls and a sweet slight scent of lavender accompanied us. Ribbons encircled the pillars, railings, and anything else that could be captured; it was as though the castle had been permeated by a field full of morning glories. Every page, lady-in-waiting, and butler was adorned in matching colors of purple and pink. I caught several of the younger pages wrinkling their noses and picking distastefully at their rather feminine attire.

In the main hall tall vases lined the walls and were filled with artificial flowers of pink and purple paper. A whole orchestra occupied the stage, keeping the air attuned with a soft sweet sound. Two tables stretched along the back emitting sights and smells for the hungry. My mouth watered, and I remembered why I loved weddings so.

First things first, with Loretta at my elbow I patiently shuffled through the congratulating line of silk and satin clad lords and ladies where the happy couple sat at the end under a white archway of stone. Here the lavenders and roses reached a climax. One could not see their seats for they were literally hidden in a garden of flowers. Baskets and baskets of tiny corsages and boutonnieres of roses and lavender sat beside them, and I saw that two servants, a boy and girl, were pinning them on each guest. King Thru…Adam had an impressive collection below his right shoulder. Princess Katelyn's white dress, silky and as wide and fluffy as a dandelion was sprinkled with the pink petals. Her golden hair was braided with roses and lavender. Goodness, even her cheeks were of the same tint!

In the midst of the procession was a grand chestnut table, though adorned with a violet table cloth, where the gifts for the new couple spilled onto the marble floor. A straight backed young man stood ready to take the next contribution. As I handed him the gold box, which contained a set of pearls for the lady and a matching dagger for the groom, his eyes widened at the sight of me.

"Princess Ruthia!" he blurted, then quickly ducked his head in embarrassment.

"You know me?" I wondered.

He nodded, a hint of pink still gracing his cheeks. "Of course, your highness. Although there are some who would dispute it, you are still considered the most beautiful unmarried maid in all the land."

"Oh, I'm sure there are many who dispute it and have every right to," I responded lightly. I had decided long ago I was not nearly so covetous of that title.

The young man was taken aback at this remark. Then, in a tone of deep responsibility leaned in as close as propriety dared him and added, "Only one disputes it, your highness. And you best beware of her. She has all the intentions of a snake."

Now it was my turn to be surprised. If this servant was aware of the intrigues of this lady, she must be dangerous indeed. And why tell me? I was nearly curious. "What is your name?"

He averted his eyes and stepped back. "Devon."

"And why, Devon, are you so kind as to inform me of this…lady? You owe me no allegiance."

Devon hesitated, glancing around furtively as though he were about to divulge a murder. "I _do_ owe my pure allegiance to my prince, Nathaniel of Durant."

Despite myself, I felt a chilling thrill run up my spine and my cheeks grew warm. Apparently this servant knew more than I would have liked. I gulped, struggling to contain my emotions. "Ah. I was unaware the youngest Durantian prince had an interest in the land's beauty contest. Is he the self-proclaimed judge?"

Devon caught the bitterness rising to my tone and responded readily, "Only when it includes you, your highness."

Was it a job requirement for Fred's servants to have a quick tongue? I nearly challenged him by asking why, but caught myself, realizing I was afraid of the answer. Hadn't he made it clear that he wished to humiliate me? Well, that's why I was here, to find out. I was not the kind to inquire after such personal matters from servants. I would ask the horse himself.

So I ended the conversation on a softer note. "You are most considerate to give me this information, Devon. I thank you."

He nodded, and we moved on, Loretta giving each of us a curious glance. At her pinch I reluctantly explained about the dangerous lady. She was about to comment but we at last reached the cheerful couple and I immediately gave Princess Katelyn's hand a tight squeeze.

"You are purely exquisite, princess," I said as honestly as possible, which wasn't hard. "Of all the many weddings I have attended, yours is most outstanding."

Naturally her brilliant blue eyes widened at the sight of me. I could tell she was unsure if I was being sardonic or sincere. "Th-thank you. You are very lovely, yourself, princess."

"You are very kind. I wish you all the happiness in the world." I leaned closer and murmured confidentially, "I do hope we may find friendship rather than a race to fame in the coming years."

Ever courteous, she nodded. "Yes, I would like that."

Her new husband coughed at her side and we switched our attention to him. I curtsied and averted my eyes slightly. "Sire, I must apologize for the ill manner in which I treated you. It was uncalled for and will never be repeated in any way."

To my surprise he laughed. Of course it sound like Fred's, but that was expected because they were brothers. Thankfully, he did not look very much like Fred. He had very blonde hair and green eyes. Plus, well, his chin _was_ a bit crooked.

"Do not worry, princess. The joke was a blessing in disguise. It was my fame throughout the land as "Thrushbeard" that prompted my beautiful bride to visit me in the first place. I should be thanking you for it! By the by, have you talked to my brother?"

I couldn't help it. I stiffened. I nearly shut my eyes. "No," I replied composedly. "I have not talked to your brother."

My answer must have been rather short because King Adam got the look in his eyes that promised he would not breathe another word about the subject. He once again thanked me and I was relieved to step aside as Loretta and then the rest of the long line replaced me in their attention. Loretta and I again paused as delicate flowers were pinned to our gowns.

I realized that Adam was the one Fred had sought revenge for. Apparently he had been pining away for _my_ love. I looked back at the tall golden haired man as he chattered away with guests and gave adoring glances to Katelyn. Well. I was quite certain that he was completely cured of _that_ imaginary infatuation. No doubt Katelyn and woven her own spell about his heart that mended any (if any) tears.

"Oh!" declared Loretta scattering my musings. "I think I see him!"

I gripped her arm and tried to see where her eyes were directed. "Where?!" I demanded.

"Over there," she pointed discreetly then whined, "Ouch, Ruth! Your grip is stronger than normal. That is very unnatural for a lady!"

I ignored her, too busy filling my eyes with the sight of Fred…or Prince Nathaniel as he must now be known as. No, he was still Fred. He hadn't changed…much. He wore a first rate suit of blue and silver, no doubt a clear sign of rebellion against the wedding colors. He was also furnished with polished boots void of the usual mud and a gold chain befitting to his rank. A fine cloak draped over him and he was perfectly clean. His beard was trimmed, and yet maintained his roughish look, as well as his crooked smile. Goodness, even his hair was tousled! Still, I had to admit that that cocky smile was currently being directed to a female clad in yellow on his right.

Nay, it did not take me long to notice that he was, again, midst a gaggle of giggly girls who were full of smiles and clasped hands. He did not focus his attention on any particular doe eyed lady; that was not his custom. Though I did perceive that one woman was more dominant than the others.

She was tall, only a couple inches shorter than Prince Nathaniel, who stood at _least_ six foot. Her slim yet curvy figure was adorned in a silky gown of red. It did not look very substantial, and rather foreign. I could not see much of her face, for her long black locks were let loose, and cascaded past her rather pale cheeks down to her swaying hips. From just watching a moment longer I classified her as the alluring, exotic type, nearly seductive. She was probably from Froc or some other distant southern country.

I returned my eyes to Fred just as he was looking up in mid conversation with her. He caught my gaze and I held it, thinning my eyes ever so slightly. It was a subtle yet efficient way of telling him I knew exactly what he was doing, and I did not approve. In response, his beautiful grey blue eyes lit with fire and challenge, questioning my next move.

The lady in crimson sensed the staring contest and caught sight of me. She suddenly decided I was her friend and walked forward with fluid steps. Her eyes were golden and slightly slanted. Pale skin, delicate angular yet beautiful features completed her, along with a rather low cut front. For some reason she looked familiar as she gave me her false smile.

"Princess Ruth!" she exclaimed in a voice like honey. "I was wondering if you would come tonight. Come, I must introduce you to our little group."

She placed a cool hand on my elbow but I stiffened in a manner that made her immediately draw back. No one saw it, I think. I purposefully removed my eyes from Fred's as I surveyed the others. They were nothing to fear. Their eyes were made to flutter and their lips to shower compliments.

"This is Princess Ruth of Luzcando," announced the black haired beauty at my side. "She was _said_ to have been the most beautiful maid in all the land."

I turned wide innocent eyes on the scarlet snake beside me. This must have been the lady Devon had so kindly warned me about. "Is that so?" I said lightly. "Would you please point out the lovely lady who has taken my place? I would like very much to meet her."

Lady Gloria, my memory had brightened, flushed slightly, and I must say it complimented very well with her pastel face. Giggles and titters hid instantly behind fans rippled through the crowd. They knew very well the insult I had just dealt their fellow hyena.

Without loosing her composure Lady Gloria answered with a sweet smile, "Perhaps, Princess Ruth, you had not heard that _I_ am unmarried."

I matched her smile with one of my own. "Well, why didn't you say so? I will gladly help you find a match at this ball! They say opposites attract, so I shall keep my eye out for a man who is honest, well cultured, modest, and…attractive."

The snickers nearly reached an out loud burst of un-lady-like guffawing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Fred's lips twitch, and I felt warm inside. However, I did not let my features change in the slightest. I'll admit it was a rather nasty thing to say, but I had no qualms with warring against those who would attempt to steal Fred's affections. No qualms at all. After all even the gentleman, Devon, had labeled her a serpent.

Loretta had other ideas. "Ruthia!" she hissed. "What are you thinking?"

Lady Gloria and I ignored her as we faced each other. I was at a disadvantage in height, being nearly half a foot shorter, but I had the self control to keep myself fully poised, and triumphant.

"You think you're so clever," murmured the offended lady in a soft hiss. "And yet you know _I am_ the one to take your place. Don't deny it."

"I am amazed to find you assume you can read my thoughts like a book when this is really the first time you've actually spoken to me," I responded dryly. Out of the corner of my eye, I was startled to see a girl had snuck to the side of the honorable Prince Fred and had the audacity to ask him to dance. The wench! Lady Gloria had also noticed and we both watched as Fred, ever the gentleman, escorted our rival away. We glanced back at each other, but the fight had gone out.

I had managed to keep a straight face, though I felt as though I had been slapped. Why would he do that? The only answer I could think of was that he truly did not wish to associate with me. Lady Gloria and I side stepped each other like two wary cats with hairs on end. She disappeared into the crowd and I made my way to comfort, the refreshment table.

As I indulged myself in self pity and sweet pastries I failed to notice the elegant visitor who approached me. As she cleared her throat politely, I hopped to the side as though I were in the way of the sweets.

"Forgive me, I did not see you."

She smiled and I was immediately struck. The woman epitomized the name of 'lady' in every way. A lilac gown of satin tinged with black lace flowed about her tall, female figure. Piles of silver curls decorated her erect head upon a swan-like neck. Gentle wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth, proof of a long and joyful life. However, it was her eyes that captivated me the most. They were a deep grey-blue, and so…so familiar. They twinkled and laughed, teased and lingered. I was nearly lost in them and forgot my manners. She had said something and I did not know what. Oh, of all the embarrassments!

"Eh…excuse me?"

Her smile was patient. "I said you did not appear as though you were enjoying yourself, Princess Ruthia."

"Oh, well, the decorations are exquisite, and I am certainly taking pleasure in these sweet delicacies."

"And yet you are disappointed." It was not a question. Normally I would have been instantly annoyed with anyone who attempted to state my mind, like that insufferable Lady Gloria, but this lady was an exception. I actually felt guilty under her graceful gaze and knew I could not put up any sorts of masks to her.

"The wedding and the celebration are wonderful," I insisted. "It is the guests that are lacking in quality. Rest assured it is only a couple and not a reflection on the hostess."

She laughed, ringing and clear, and again…so very familiar. "It is true that royal weddings have the downside of being more of a political assembly filled with less than wanted yet necessary guests." The lilac lady shifted her gaze to the flow of dancers swishing skillfully by the table. "Tell me, is the lady, or gentleman in this array of guests?"

Lady Gloria had indeed managed to pick up a Grand Duke whose bulging eyes proclaimed his utmost devotion to the scarlet snake. And then, in a flash, Fred sped by, spinning the uncivil girl nearly quicker than she could handle. My eyes followed them longer than necessary and when I turned back to the lady with my answer of "yes," she was watching me intently.

"One you loathe and the other…you long for."

Again, her keen perceptions did not unnerve me. In fact I was rather relieved as I nodded simply, ducking my head to hide my blush. Was it so obvious that I adored Fred? If so, could he see it and not care? "You are very observant, milady."

She smiled. "Your eyes are quite expressive." She turned her full attention to the dancing flow before us in a business-like manner. "Let's see…of all the males twirling about out there, about a third are married, and you are hardly the kind to lust for a sinful relationship. Four are widowed or ancient bachelors, but you would never degrade yourself for money."

I nearly gaped at her candidness.

"Knowing of your reputation, you would instantly discard all those who are not considered handsome of the highest level, which leaves Earl Trent, Prince Nathaniel, Sir Geraint, and Prince Xavier as likely candidates. I doubt you have met Sir Geraint; he is very new to society and has been fighting across the sea in Harmon, three countries away from Luzcando. A rather shy fellow. Sweet, yet shy. The Earl has a nasty habit of gambling and drinks far too much and too strongly. His good looks will soon deteriorate. Hmmm…"

I gulped realizing she was weighing Fred with Prince Xavier. What would I do when she would choose right? I knew she would for…

"Only Prince Nathaniel could withstand your intoxicating presence and manage your fiery spirit with his own rebuttals and compliments. Pray tell, princess, is it he?"

My blush was hot and obvious. I knew I should feel furious for being exposed by a complete stranger, but I was not. "I did not realize I was wearing my heart on my sleeve," I murmured studying the pastry on my plate and wondering if it would be too rude to stuff it in my mouth to avoid talking. Perhaps that would hide some of my thoughts from this mind reader.

The lilac lady smiled, almost apologetically. "Have no fear. You hide your feelings very well, and if one were not seeking them, they would remain hidden. I was searching them, and with my mother's intuition, I easily found what I was hoping for. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, Princess Ruthia. May you baffle your enemies and enchant your heart's desire. Oh, and don't taste the bottom layer of mince meats; the cook added too much salt and they turned out rather unsatisfactory."

The Lilac Lady slipped away before I could form my mouth to speak, though it was already open with surprise. Mother's intuition…in a jolt I realized the Lilac Lady was Queen Margret of Durant, Fred's mother! Of course her eyes were so familiar. Both Fred and Thrushbeard had inherited her laugh as well. I was actually ashamed that I had not recognized her immediately. How would my answers be different if I had known? For one horrified brief second I wondered if she would leak out my deep affection for Fred directly to him.

I could see her moving among the guests who had just finished the dance. Fred was before her now. They were far across the room, but despite the people I could easily pick Fred out. Their smiles matched as Fred dipped into a mock bow and took his mother's hand for a dance. She was speaking, smiling and teasing. He grinned in response. No. Recollecting what I knew and felt about the Queen, I felt certain that my secret was securely safe with the Lady in Lilac.

"Ruthia! There you are!" Esther's approach took my attention away from Fred and his mother. "Still eating? Haven't you got a figure to keep?"

I smiled at her and patted my perfectly flat tummy. "Jealous, Esther?"

Had I been Loretta an argument would have ensued, but for an odd reason Esther and I could tease each other mercilessly and not get offended. She tossed her head mockingly. "My Sofia is worth every fat cell I've ever gotten."

I thought about my niece's chubby cheeks and wispy hair and had to smile.

"Besides," sniffed Esther. "Your weakness for sweets has caused you to miss your cue."

"My cue?"

"Yes, thick headed one! This song is the last one before your performance! You should be getting dressed and ready now! Madam Catalina is surely tearing her hair out with aggravation. It is lazy forgetful princesses like you that make the rest of royalty look terrible!"

She was right. I shoved my uneaten plate of refreshments into her hand. "Be a dear and finish this off for me, will you?" I asked sweetly. She stuttered in protestation but I was too busy skipping away. No doubt she would finish it and blame me for the guilt she would feel later on.

I easily located the room that was directly across from the back entrance of the stage. I could see glimpses of the dancing guests through the pink curtains and orchestra. Lilac, blue, silver, lilac…was it…?

"Lady Ruth!" Madam Catalina grasped my arm and tugged me inside before I could come to any conclusions. "I will say nothing of your lack of punctuality if you will hurry into your attire. Maria, please help the lady with her hair."

She disappeared in a whirl of silk and lace. Maria plucked away the pearl pins which Esther had so artfully placed so as to hold up my curls.

"My bodice…" I began, but another girl was already working on that, too. Both were already dressed and were helping the frantic Catalina prepare the slower girls, I among them. I slipped out of the wide thick dress and immediately felt refreshed. Off came the bloomers and stockings and slippers. The silky substance of the costume slid down over me and the rush of getting ready melted into an anticipating giddiness. I loved our costumes.

The flowing skirts were cut jagged about the edges and the highest slit reached scandalously to our knees. They were mixed colors of lush green and deep chocolate, in correlation of the woods we were to represent as fairies. Only Maria, the lead dancer, would wear a dazzling array of pink and purple, in honor of Princess Katelyn's color choice. The top hugged in all the right places, but not too tightly. Madam Catalina, contrary to her lessons to me so many months ago, had advised we loosen our corsets. She understood the need to breathe while dancing. Our flowing sleeves started at our shoulders and trickled down to our wrists but the fabric was so sheer and delicate the whole arm was basically exposed. Dancers could do this without being tossed out of decent society.

Maria was fluffing up my hair trying to make it look as wild and natural looking as possible. It didn't need a lot of help and soon I was brushing wisps and dark curls irritably from my eyes. She finally lifted a wreath from our supply box. We had each chosen our own flowers. Without thinking I had selected violets, and then added vibrant blue morning glories to entwine it all together. Marta's garden and field had certainly left a lasting impression on me.

"Ah, not yet, lady Ruth," declared Maria, when I tried to move to the line of other girls. At Madam Catalina's insistence we referred to one another as "lady" so as to always remember what we were at the core. It also allowed me to go unnoticed as the Crown Princess of Luzcando.

"You forget the veil."

Of course! It had been my idea after all. For obvious reasons I had not wanted every guest at the King of Durant's wedding to recognize me in a common dancing crew. The gossip would never end and might interfere with my ability to participate.

It took only a moment to secure the wide flap of fine fabric to the wreath and then we were ready. Maria hurried to her place as last in the line. I wiggled my toes. We had to dance barefoot, and I was still getting use to the cold stone beneath my tender feet. I longed for slippers. Madam Catalina scuttled us out of the room and I could see the orchestra had vacated the stage. The curtains were now drawn and the friendly buzz of conversation flowed from the ballroom.

"Now, my ladies," said Madam Catalina by way of a last instruction. "I am so very happy to have led you on this beautiful adventure. You are all wonderful, dear sweet ladies. Now, show these illustrious guests and Durantians a bit of light from Luzcando."

We were not the first dancing performance of the night, but we all understood the underlying competition between crews. She was ensuring us of her pleasure in us no matter the outcome. She curtsied respectively and moved aside, smiling with as much encouragement and reassurance as her nervous heart could muster. I smiled in return as I passed her, extra grateful for the bit of patriotism she had shown.

I took a breath, completely at ease. I truly enjoyed participating with these girls. There was no competition, no jealousies, and no presumptions. Just girls with a passion for dancing. We folded into our positions which looked like piles of crumpled leaves and wood and dirt with lovely Maria in the midst. I was at the back, again my idea to ensure my anonymity.

The announcer explained who we were and the title of the dance. I wasn't listening. We were all intently keen on the single starting note that would signal our moment. The curtains swished aside and the light of the ballroom flooded upon us. The music and our still presence silenced the murmuring crowd, but I dared not peek from my statue like position.

Maria began, unfurling her lithe limbs with a fluidity I could only admire. As the lead dancer she was the only one neither veiled nor wreathed. She had an array of all our flowers pinned expertly to her long chestnut tresses. I could imagine her delicate features exposed to the full light cast upon the stage and could almost hear the crowd's gasp. Now she would be stretching elegantly and tip toeing from one prostrate figure to the next. Each one she touched would begin to awake in a procession of graceful movements.

Her cool hand just nipped my shoulder and I joined the others. It did not take long before the music completely over took us. We no longer consciously thought of the next jump or stretch or twist. We just danced wherever the music took us. Madam Catalina had engrained the dance into us so well, I did not open my eyes until half way through, as I'm sure others were the same.

When I did open my eyes I was beautifully aware that my mind could perceive all, but my body continued with the dance, undistracted. I could hear the rustle my skirt and the soft skidding of bare feet on the wooden stage. I could see wide eyes and lips parted in awe amid the dazzle of rich clothing and wine glasses. Of course they were enthralled. Madam Catalina was a genius.

Fred.

There he was. Front row, solid blue and silver trimmings in a flash. I did not need to see his face. I knew it was him. I twirled with the others, effortlessly spinning around Maria. We paused, lingering in complex poses. He was staring at me. No, he couldn't be. But as I caught the moment to look again, there was no denying it. His eyes did not dart from dancer to dancer, but remained fixated in my direction.

That was when I saw Lady Gloria at his side, clutching a wine glass and looking rather bored, or perhaps perturbed. The scarlet snake had wrapped her conniving arm about Fred's. The sight nearly jolted me, but as I flitted away, my step regained its sure course. It was a mistake. He was only staring because I _looked_ like Princess Ruthia. He couldn't _really_ recognize me.

We dropped to the ground as Maria commenced a solo part. I dared to peek upward. Fred was still gazing at me and for one dreadful moment I thought I saw him wink. Of all the nerve! No, his face was still unchanging, so much like stone; I wondered what he was thinking.

The music was ebbing away. I realized I was not as in sync with the call of the melody. That prince of Durant had distracted me. Thankfully only I could tell the difference and it was not long before I and my fellows had returned to our crumpled heaps of leaves and dirt. Maria was still dancing as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed around us.

While the crowd resounded with applauds, I got to my feet and slipped out the way we had entered. The rest of the dancers would be allowed to mingle with the guests in their full costumes, but of course I was exempt. The dressing room was vacant; no doubt Madam Catalina was beaming as admirers praised her crew.

I was reluctant to climb back into my ball gown. Although it was by no means as cumbersome and heavy as others, it was a great change to the breezy woodland outfit. I was careful to pin my hair back up the best I could. No doubt Esther would be upon me in a flurry of corrections.

However, the first person to accost me once I re-entered the ballroom was not Esther or Loretta. It was a rather stout, tall, elderly gentleman dressed in military uniform. His bald head gleamed and a dusty grey mustache drooped past his chin. He strutted up to me, bowed, and spoke in a rumbling monotone, "Ah… Crown Princess Ruthia Eva Lynet Salvadora of Luzcando and Provinces, I hoped to see you here. I am Colonel Ludovic Effingham, honorary military commander of the province Froc, fairest and finest province of the illustrious Luzcando. Is your father, the worthy King Carlos Salvadoro, about?"

"He was unable to make it, Colonel," I replied, rather quickly. Father had warned me about him. If he caught a moment with you, he'd snatch the whole evening. It was nearly impossible to leave his rambling vice. "Currently I am looking for my sisters. So excuse me…"

"Ah…I will assist you in your search."

He remained in step with me as I tried to navigate through the crowd.

"I understand that as the newly appointed Crown Princess you are perhaps unaware of the conditions of Luzcando's army, particularly the segment stationed in the fine and fair Froc."

Oh, yes, his main topic was of the army, his pride and joy. Luzcando hadn't had a war in forty-two years, and did not expect one for another hundred. The Colonel insisted, however, on keeping it in beyond pristine condition which was a complete waste of taxes. Father had explained all this to me. The Colonel made it a point to attend all social gatherings, hoping for some victim who would listen to his needless cause.

"…the barracks are shamelessly vacant, though there is hope if the royal…"

His droning truly never ceased. Remembering Father's instructions, I waited for an opportune pause when he was just gathering his breath and blurted, "Quite right, Colonel, you have a point. Excuse my lack of response, but my throat is so very famished, I can hardly reply to your suggestions."

He took the bait immediately. Straightening his shoulders he announced gallantly, "I shall fetch you a glass, straight away, princess. Wine, I presume?"

"Water, thank you. You are quite the gentleman."

He strutted away. I was to use this time to make my escape, Father assured me the man never took it as an insult, but something hindered me. I had barely made it two steps when the scarlet snake intruded on my path.

"You missed the dance performance," commented Lady Gloria, in what seemed to be an attempt to be friendly. Her languid, fluid movements were really beginning to unnerve me.

"I saw it," I replied, which was the truth, though she didn't have to know what perception I had. I remembered her dull expression during the show and had to ask, "What are your opinions of it?"

"Elementary," she answered immediately.

I flared instantly, but managed to maintain my composure by inquiring sweetly, "Do mean your opinions are elementary? How unfortunate. You'll need to improve that if you wish to impress such intelligent company as the groom's younger brother."

Again I took delight in the hot flush that leapt to her cheeks. "_My_ beauty is enough to impress anyone. I can't say the same for yours."

"Indeed," I replied. "You can't say anything about mine, for it is beyond your limited comprehension. Do you really think the prince is so shallow as to be won by appearances alone?"

Lady Gloria straightened with pride and cocked her head for an attack. "Our fathers were close allies in politics and private. A connection through marriage has always been their wish. Even the late king of Durant mentioned his desire for such a match on his death bed. Nathaniel and I are only honoring our fathers' friendship by continuing our own."

"Milady, your water." The Colonel appeared at my side before I could respond. I clenched my teeth and grasped the glass offered to me. The scarlet snake had struck well.

"Thank you, Colonel, you are most kind." I only hoped he did not notice that my voice was strained. Lady Gloria was glancing at him with obvious distain and amusement. No doubt entertained that I should keep company with him.

"Indeed. Ah, you have company. Lady Gloria of Galia, I believe. You are most welcome. I am…ah… Colonel Ludovic Effingham, honorary military commander of the province…"

"Quite, quite," Lady Gloria flicked her hand and I caught the slight rolling in her eyes. "Your appearance declared your military connection well enough, sir."

Her remark was a mockery of his rather gaudy outfit. Every medal and ribbon imagined was pinned upon the Colonel's bright red and gold uniform. He had run out of room upon his chest and shoulders and had moved down the middle and had them hanging about the edge of his coat. I had been rather taken aback myself, but felt no need to ridicule his choice of clothing. No doubt he felt great pride in wearing each one, and who was I to wound a man's only pride, when my own country had bestowed it?

The Colonel beamed, unaware of the insult. "Ah. Lady Gloria, you noticed my…uh…humble decorations. Allow me to explain what they represent. You…ah… Princess Ruth will find this quite interesting, I believe. This one…ah…Prince Nathaniel. What an opportune moment for you to join. I was just about to delight the ladies with tales of my service to the Luzcandian army. Though, forgive me if I do not invoke your own country's honorable army. Ah, now…"

"It's really been quite fascinating." Lady Gloria's voice smoothed into honey, as she shifted her hips to lean closer to Fred. "I had no idea the Colonel was in the army. Did you, Nathaniel?"

I had almost managed to avoid his approach by focusing on the Colonel speaking. However, there was an instant when our eyes met and I nearly flushed. Thankfully the glass I had been squeezing did not collapse. Lady Gloria's last stupid comment had me smiling and feeling more in control. Yet it was not me, but Fred who responded. I took the moment to drain my cup of water and hide my humorous contempt for the scarlet snake.

"Lady Gloria," he said, handing her a glass of wine she doubtlessly ordered. "The title of Colonel _is_ a title in the army." His tone was filled with the perfect respect and patience, but I noticed the slight edge in it that signified his annoyance. He softened his already serene remark with, "There are so many titles in the army, it is no wonder one cannot keep up with them. No doubt, Colonel you are quite proficient when it comes to such matters."

"Ah, yes," nodded the Colonel. He turned his eyes back to me. "Which is why the Crown Princess…ah, that is _you_, milady…should be most interested in what I have to say about the Luzcandian army."

"Crown Princess?" Fred seemed genuinely surprised at this. He steadied his grey blue eyes on me directly. "Are you to take the throne after your father, Ruthia…er… Princess?"

The slip was quite harmless, but Gloria's lovely chin jerked with keen awareness. There, she now knew that her precious Nathaniel and I were on first name terms. Just to further incite her, I inserted my own slip in my rather cool response. "Yes, Fr…_Prince _Nathaniel. As my father's eldest child, it is only natural that I succeed him. Did you except someone else?"

He seemed a bit taken aback but shook his head slowly. Then that old familiar grin crept crookedly up his lips and I nearly melted at the sight. "No…you are quite right, milady. I can't think of a better candidate."

For a moment I was speechless. Fred was standing before me, and I nearly forgot he was the younger prince of Durant. I nearly forgot we were at his brother's wedding. I nearly forgot he had broken my heart. Then reality rushed back and my answer was clipped. "Thank you."

Colonel Effingham cleared his throat, in an attempt to turn the attention back to him. "Yes… ah… as I was saying, you, as the Crown Princess should have ample reason to listen to my extended views on the organization and performance of the Luzcandian army. It occurred to me that…there might be a more…efficient way of fully…supplying you with the details. If we…ah…you and I…"

In that horrid moment I realized the Colonel was about to ask me to dance! I nearly panicked at the thought of spending an entire song with his "ahs" and army infatuation. My hand in his sweaty palm, his red complexion facing mine throughout the full duration of a dance! In that split second I remembered the dances, so long ago when there were farmers and straw and cherries. Fred had saved me from several unwanted dances then. Couldn't he do it now?

"…Although I am not quite as dexterous as I once was…ah…" the Colonel was still grasping about a way to ask me.

Lady Gloria looked purely elated. And Fred. He just stared. He probably saw no harm in entertaining the old military man with a dance since it was obvious he was keen on getting me to listen to his ramblings. Why had I hoped he would save me?

"…certain you know your way about the…ah…"

The scarlet snake was tugging at Fred's arm, murmuring her poison. He had failed me before, why not now? I steeled myself for my fate, with no hope for myself, or in Fred.

"…what I mean is, a more efficient way of going about this conversation would be if we were…"

"Colonel Ludovic Effingham!"

We all looked up, purely astonished as Queen Margret descended to the side of the flustered Colonel. Several other people glanced our way, taking a glimpse at the man who had caused the lilac lady to raise her tone above a murmur.

"You are a very evasive, gentleman, I have been casting my eye about for you. It does not surprise me to find you among the noble young. How are you, my good sir?" Her voice returned to normal and her eyes were focused on the Colonel who grasped around for an answer.

"Ah…Queen Margret."

"I wish to show you something. You shan't say no. I forbid it." She actually placed an elegant hand on his arm, strategically avoiding the medals and ribbons. Of course the Colonel could not refuse and he allowed himself to be escorted away.

I glanced back at Fred, wondering what his reaction to his mother's move would be. However, another scene captured my attention. Prince Xavier, the olive toned prince who made it to the lilac lady's list of top handsome men had approached the other side of Lady Gloria. His dark eyes settled on her and he was bowing, straight backed before her. His voice was so low and soft, I could only guess his purpose.

A bit flustered, Lady Gloria nodded numbly, and took his hand. He swept her onto the dance floor and suddenly I was alone with Fred. I realized the disappearance of the Colonel and the scarlet snake at such a moment had been the responsibility of the Queen of Durant. Apparently Prince Xavier was also under her enchanting bidding. I was unsure if I wanted to thank or scold her.

"I did not realize your mother was on such friendly terms with the Colonel," I commented wryly.

"Neither did I," confessed Fred. "Nor did I realize you two had met."

"Briefly."

He nodded and a rather awkward silence prevailed. I hated it.

"How is everyone?" I blurted.

"Everyone?"

"Marta. Gwen. Aspen….Lawrence."

"Fine, I suppose. I left…didn't stay too long. Lawrence is healing. Healed actually. He is here as my… valet."

"Oh."

"The others. They miss you."

"I thought you didn't stay long."

"I didn't. But…Lawrence brought me a letter from Aspen. She asked me how you were doing."

"What did you tell her?"

"I didn't know."

Of course he didn't. He never asked. I recalled the long aching days of tears and sobs, uncombed hair and unfinished meals. He never asked. Then, there were the accompanying days of long hours in Father's study, pouring over books and maps. Loretta and Esther's refreshing company, the city, and Madam Catalina's instructions.

"Ruthia, let's begin again."

His exasperated plea startled me. I stared at him. "As though _nothing_ has happened?"

"Right."

I didn't think I could, but it was worth a shot. It was better than me demanding of him here in the middle of a crowd whether he loved me or not. I nodded, still wary.

He bowed, his eyes never leaving my face and his signature grin on his own. "Good evening, I am Prince Nathaniel Fredrick Rouen of Durant."

I dipped into an exaggerated yet finely low curtsy. "I am _Crown_ Princess Ruthia Eva Lynet Salvadora of Luzcando and Provinces, and I dare say my title is longer than yours." I added this last part with a sniff and toss of my head.

"It is quite the mouthful," agreed Fred. "I have often wondered, milady, if ladies with particularly long titles were also particularly nimble on the dance floor. Is this your case?"

He was trying to see if I was indeed with the dancing crew. He only suspected. I would not betray myself or Madam Catalina. "Alas, sir, skilful dancers need long legs, and I do not have those, only a long title."

"Oh, I see." He glanced about him and gave a sigh. "It was worth the try, though I see the last song has already played. Pity, I would have liked to test your theory."

The idea of dancing with Fred set butterflies whirling in my stomach and I could not think of a reply. The last song had undeniably ended and the wedding guests began to trickle towards the exits, bidding farewells and congratulations. The royal newlyweds had disappeared.

"I know we've just met, and it is highly inappropriate, but would you mind missing your carriage and staying an extra hour?"

He wanted me to stay? Imagining an hour with Fred alone did not help the insect problem in my gut.

"It would be highly inappropriate if I consented," I began slowly, eyeing him, wishing desperately I knew what his motives were. "And my younger sisters are excellent chaperones."

"I've got a game of checkers in one of the many rooms in here."

I hesitated.

"I'm sure there are tarts in the kitchens I can sneak as well."

I smiled. "Are you bribing me?"

His grin flashed crooked and genuine. "If need be, yes."

"If need be what, Nathaniel?"

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was definitely annoyed when Lady Gloria glided to a halt at Fred's side. Her slim hand touched his elbow and I thought about their fathers. Fred looked at a loss for words, so I filled in, with the truth.

"We were considering a game of checkers and tarts, Lady Gloria," I declared boldly.

"Oh, how wonderful! I love checkers; probably not as much as Nathaniel, but I hold my own."

Her sweet smile sickened me.

"It was only an idea," confirmed Fred in a murmur. He looked as though he did not want to be there. Was he embarrassed that Lady Gloria had caught him inviting me to do such a "highly inappropriate" activity? Why wouldn't he just tell her to shut up and go away? No, that was not his custom. Fred, if anything, was a gentleman.

In that instant I knew I could never begin again. Too much had happened. I wanted to lean in close and tell him so, but with the scarlet snake watching I couldn't. Instead I ducked my head, curtsied and declared, "However, unfortunately I must retire as the hour is late and it has been a rather exhausting day. I'm sure you understand."

Fred looked speechless. Lady Gloria deigned to curtsy. "Oh, we understand. Goodbye, princess."

I did not grace her with even a glance. There was a moment of intense silence, with Fred staring at me and my feet unwilling to move. Then it was over and I stepped back.

"Goodnight, Fred."

It had been a real slip that time.

* * *

**There is not much left, I'm afraid. However, since I can't quite let go, I've arranged an interview with Ruthia and Fred. I would like to invite the readers to submit any sort of questions you would like. If the story does not cover something you were wondering about, now would be the time to ask. The three of us, author, Ruthia, and Fred are open for anything! Of course if its about any of the other characters, I assure you I can answer the question. :) So ask away! We'll see how the interview goes.  
**

**Oh! And please look at the possibilities for my next project on my profile. I would love to know what sounds more interesting to my wonderful readers!  
**


	25. The Unsigned Contract

**I do hope this satisfies cravings for revenge, romance, questions and completion. Don't worry. I'm not finished yet. I am still accepting questions for the interview with Ruthia and Fred. Thank you for being such kind readers and reviewers.  
**

**Chapter 23: The Unsigned Contract**

For some reason, I felt purely joyful when I opened my eyes the next day. I stretched leisurely and wiggled my toes. The hotel we were staying at was naturally of the best quality and the bed was almost as soft as the one at home. However, this was not the reason for my happiness. Although nothing had appeared to happen yesterday, I still felt giddy at my conversation with Fred. I had decided that he truly wanted start with a clean slate. No doubt we would address the past at some point. Tonight there would be another ball and I would see him again. Surely things would be better then.

For now, the whole day was mine and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my time.

"Maid, I haven't…gotten…" Loretta stumbled over her words as she realized she was addressing her sister and not a servant. She pulled her chin in slightly as she took in my attire. "Ruth, what in the world are you doing dressed so…plainly? Goodness, that dress has a tear! And…is that a grease mark on your elbow? Ruth! Where are your stockings? Your slippers? Your…"

"Oh hush, Loretta," I told her. "Can't you see I'm disguising myself? It wouldn't do to go traversing around the city in my jewels and gowns."

"Traversing…you aren't taking the carriage?"

I finished tying the ribbon in my hair and turned towards the door. I gave my naïve sister a quick pat on the cheek and a charming smile. "No, dear. I'll see you this evening."

She was still gaping when I closed the door.

The air was crisp and filled with the dusty smell of horses and spices. I followed the main road and watched the people as they passed. Many were worn and impatient as they waited for jams to dwindle away and pedestrians to move quickly. In fact, I learned a few words that I had not known in Luzcando. Others were much more interesting to watch. They greeted each other with compliments and taunts. Women stopped with their baskets to huddle in clusters with found friends to gossip. Children darted dangerously between wagons and horses, and escaped wagging fingers. The men were steady and persistent in their work as they loaded, sold, built, and did whatever else peasant men did.

When I finally reached the market place, I first bought a basket. My plan was to spend a whole purse full of money on Durantian trinkets and souvenirs. I would show Loretta and Esther what wonderful things could come from a common market. Then I would have an excuse to go about like this at home. I knew eventually they would demand I take a body guard. In fact…I glanced behind me, half expecting one of our own body guards to be secretly sneaking about behind me, on Loretta's request. I didn't see anyone suspicious.

Well, as Crown Princess, I suppose I couldn't argue if there was one.

"Lady Ruth?"

I turned back from my speculating to see Maria, my fellow dancer standing before me. She too was dressed simply, but more neatly and cleanly. She looked like a well to do daughter of a merchant.

"Hello, Lady Maria, fancy us both being here." I noticed her basket. "Are you shopping as well?"

"The girls wanted strawberries, and I knew where to get them. My uncle lives here, so I know my way around. And you? I did not realize you…shopped."

I knew what she meant. Civilized ladies did not shop. They had servants for that. "I was bored," I replied. "I've never been here and wanted a look around. Since you know your way around, may I join you?"

She smiled, a lovely shy smile. "Very well."

As we stepped into a casual stroll, I commented, "Now, I assume that this means there is a mutual agreement that neither of us are to inform Madam Catalina of our unladylike actions."

She giggled. "Oh, you have my word. I shan't want to see her slip into a swoon."

"Yes, for as soon as she has revived she will say we should have been watching carefully so as to know how to faint properly."

We enjoyed a laugh, for our descriptions were actually quite accurate of our good dancing mistress.

The next two hours were delightful. We saved Maria's strawberries for last so they would be fresh. She took me to her favorite merchants and I bought something from each one. Soon my basket was filled with crystals, music boxes, shell necklaces, and waterproof jewelry boxes. What I would do with a waterproof jewelry box I had no idea. Perhaps Esther could use it against the advances of her drooling adorable daughter.

The sun beat down and when I reached to take a couple of newly baked and bought rolls from a baker for lunch, I realized how sweaty I was. Maria didn't appear to be glistening at all and she was polite enough not to notice the wetness on my own forehead. She only suggested we sit in some shade as we ate and chatted. We found a kind horse trader who let us sit on his grain boxes. He even shooed away the horses that sniffed at our lunch.

Maria finished quickly and admired the horses.

"I've always liked these creatures," she commented.

"Why?" I wondered honestly.

"Have you ever seen them in a field, running? A whole herd of them racing for pure pleasure?"

I shook my head. I'd probably seen them in fields, but never more than a glance.

She sighed. "I have. My Papa owns many. It is their gracefulness that made me wish to dance."

"You are an excellent dancer," I commented.

"Thank you. You are, too, and learn very quickly.

I silently noted how her flushed cheeks only added to her beauty. Maria had always been very lovely, but I suddenly realized that it was even more pronounced as she gazed wistfully at the horses, her head tilted to one side and her hip resting on the post. There was a smudge of dirt on her forehead and her hands were sticky with honey and little curly wisps fluttered in her face, but it only enhanced her splendor.

"Lady Maria," I declared. "I must say that I am surprised that no one as announced _you_ to be the most beautiful maid in all the land."

She blushed and laughed. "Oh, no! Only my Papa would say such a thing. I do not associate with men other than my brothers. I prefer dancing…and horses."

"If you attended more balls and such, your Papa would not be the only one saying so."

"I would not dare take that title from our Crown Princess. Princess Ruthia deserves it."

"And what if she is to be married soon?" I kept my tone light and casual, but personally wished this to be true.

She laughed again. "Then Lady Gloria is mounting in fame and beauty. I heard so at the ball last night."

I laughed outright. "Lady Gloria? She is spreading lies. Have you seen her?"

"Well…I think so. She was wearing scarlet, was she not?"

"Yes. She is far too conceited to be the most beautiful."

Maria was silent. I suddenly realized that she might be thinking the exact same thing about me, the Haughty Princess Ruthia of Luzcando. I flushed. How could I counter that?

At last she spoke. "I have not thought about it much until recently. The other girls were saying that the Haughty Princess is no longer so haughty. They say they have seen her in court and they have relatives at the castle. They say she is much kinder than before and more patient. I decided then that her beauty had always been there, but she deserves the most beautiful title much more because she has changed and become so much more. If Luzcando's princess can do this, perhaps, this Lady Gloria will become more as well?"

"Perhaps," I said coldly, still thinking of her evaluation of me. "You are far more hopeful than I."

Before either of us could continue the conversation a voice, clearly meant for us, whispered aloud, "Pst, your ladyship!"

I froze. Maria too glanced nervously around.

"Your high….my lady Ruth… Salvadora."

I found the source of the insistent hissing. A man leading a horse was peeking from behind a strip between two tents. He was dressed grandly and with the sigma of Luzcando. Ah, so Loretta had sent a guard after me. I recognized him as one of our many attendants. I hurried over to him, Maria in tow.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, clearly annoyed. I did not wish everyone to know who I was.

"Forgive me, your….ladyship. Pri…Lady Loretta sent me. You have received a message and your sister insisted that I find you. She said it was very urgent. She did say you were under disguise, but I found you anyway." He seemed very proud of this fact.

"Congratulations," I sighed, hopefully not everyone could see through my disguise. "Hand it over."

"Perhaps it is from an admirer," smiled Maria as the messenger fumbled in his coat.

"Doubtful," I laughed, Loretta would not have bothered me with a petty admirer. I clasped the envelope and turned it over, nearly gasping.

It was from Fred.

I tore the letter open, and there were two papers. One was clean and fresh, but I never got a chance to look at it because the other one kept my attention riveted. It was dustier than when I last saw it, and quite crumpled, since it had not been stored in a file for a while. Although I had only seen it once and never fully read it, I recognized it instantly.

It was the marriage contract drawn up so long ago between Fred and me when I thought he had been a fool of a beggar. Yes, there was my father's oath, and Fred's full name, and father's signature and…the line beneath remained blank. The place where Fred should have sprawled his name was completely void of ink. The paper began to tremble.

A thousand thoughts burst in my head. Why had he played so nicely last night only to throw this in my face? Why now? Wouldn't he have enjoyed it more if I opened this in the middle of a watching crowd? Or was he that cruel? Did he have another purpose? Did he never love me?

This last one was the question that had haunted me for the past two months or so. I was not any closer with this scrap of paper in my hand. Suddenly my teeth gritted down and the contract crumpled in my tightening fist. That old prideful flare burned in my cheeks and eyes. If he wanted to humiliate me I would fight back. If he loved me, I would demand to know. No more games, no more side stepping. I had to know the truth.

"Take me to the castle."

"Your highness?"

"Lady Ruth, are you all right," Maria was obviously concerned. "Are you…not a lady? I mean…are you _more_ than a lady?"

I did not have time to concern myself with gentle explanations. I handed her my basket. "Forgive me, Maria. I am Princess Ruthia, and I am in a hurry. I have enjoyed myself immensely. Good luck with your strawberries, and I _do_ mean what I said before…about you being more beautiful than Lady Gloria."

I turned abruptly to the messenger and marched toward the horse. "Get up there and help me up. You are going to take me to the castle _right now_."

He didn't object, only had a perpetual perturbed and confused look on his face as he hoisted me onto the horse and climbed up afterward. I was too angry and focused to notice Maria's shocked expression, the height of the horse or the town speeding by. When we reached the castle my messenger tried to get inside.

"This is the Crown Princess Ruthia of Luzcando."

"Who, your horse?" The guard snickered.

I slid impatiently from the ground by myself. "Don't waste my time with your bored protocol," I snapped at him. "Your duty is to let me in at once, so don't you dare dilly dally."

He was startled at my tone and authority, but raked me with his eyes with obvious confusion. My attire was not that of a royal princess. He began to fumble but his mate, an older and much wiser man interfered.

"That's her. Don't know what she's up to, but I'd recognize her face anywhere."

They opened the gate and I heard them still speaking as I marched past.

"How do you know?" wondered the insolent one.

"Seen plenty of King Adam's portraits of her from when he…uh…was interested in her. Saw them when he tossed them out after…"

I was stopped again when I tried to enter the actual building. What was with these stupid guards everywhere? Were the Durantians expecting an attack during their precious king's wedding? Of all the nonsensical….this guard was harder to convince than the ones at the gate.

"Look, muffin head," I snarled.

"Look at yourself," retorted the guard.

Before I could snap out a reply, a voice interjected that changed everything. "Princess Ruthia?"

We both turned to see a young girl dressed grandly in pink with sandy ringlets. It took a moment to realize that it was Princess Lily, Fred's sister. She skipped up to me and threw her arms around me.

"It _is_ you! Oh, I thought I would have to wait until tonight to see you. I missed my chance yesterday because some dandy spilt wine on my dress and spoilt it. I saw you though. You were completely dazzling! By the time I had changed the ball was nearly over. I saw you again, but you were talking to Nathaniel and mother said I couldn't interrupt. I tried telling her I never got to talk to you and Nathaniel had got to spend…"

"Princess Lily," I had to interrupt or the girl would continue for an eternity. I tried to remember my manners, if only for a moment. "You have arrived at a most opportune time. Would you please inform your insufferable guard to allow me inside your home?"

"Oh, certainly! Martin open those doors would you? Don't you know this is Princess Ruthia?"

"Yes, of course, your highness." Martin bowed with a flourish and opened the doors. He refused to look up, perhaps because he did not wish to see my triumphant disdainful glance as we passed into the interior.

Princess Lily began to chatter again, "I just happened to be walking about the court yard looking for my lady in waiting. I've got a curl that just unraveled and wanted her to fix it. She wasn't in my room so I assumed she was flirting with her boyfriend, Devon, again. He's a guard, well sometimes. He's actually Nathaniel's friend. I think he's more of a spy. Anyway, I thought it very unsuitable for me, a princess, to go chasing after her, my lady-in-waiting that is, but all the other servants are busy because the garden party is taking up their time."

"The garden party?"

"Oh, yes! Adam and Katelyn couldn't meet with everyone last night, so they invited a few close friends to the garden party this afternoon. Mostly family members and very old friends are in attendance. I was just there when I discovered my loose curl. Nathaniel pointed it out to me when I was talking to Jason, my cousin. He can be such a tease! Not Jason, but Nathaniel…"

"He is at the garden party now?"

"Why yes, after all he is Adam's brother and that's a pretty close family member." She took a breath to giggle. "He didn't really want to go because he absolutely loathes parties, but of course mother made him because it's his duty. I don't see why he dislikes them so much, they are so very beautiful and he always has someone to talk to and all the ladies love him."

"Princess Lily," I wondered what it would take to shut her up. My anger and frustration were beginning to grow with her hindrance. However, I managed to keep my voice and tone steady, "You have been a tremendous help. Now, would you assist me in one more thing?"

"Oh, certainly!"

"Good. Please instruct me on how to reach this garden party."

"Oh, I can take you! But I haven't taken care of my curl…" she thought for a moment. The sudden motion and sound of footsteps caught her attention. She waved her hand eagerly to someone behind me. "Oh perfect!" she exclaimed. "Lawrence can escort you!"

I whirled around. Indeed, Fred's valet, and Gwen's sweetheart was standing before me, looking perfectly healthy and confused.

"Lawrence!" I couldn't help but cry out.

"Princess Ruthia," he acknowledged with a curt nod of his head.

I knew just what to do. "Are you still in love with Gwen?"

"Very much," he responded without hesitation and his eyes snapped with determination and attention.

"Then for the sake of that love please take me to Fred."

"Do it, Lawrence. I've got to go find Louisa. Or Devon, he would know where…" her voice trailed off as she began wandering away, still talking and still in search for her maid.

"Right this way, your highness." Lawrence actually bowed slightly before he moved down a hall with his hands behind his back and his head erect. I caught up to him immediately, rather annoyed with his behavior.

"You really don't have to act like I'm a prissy, Lawrence. What would Gwen think?"

"You are still royalty, your majesty."

I had to remind myself that this young man still referred to Fred as "sir," perhaps that's just the way he was. Still, I had to try. "I'm glad to see you are completely well. It was disturbing to see Gwen so sad."

"Thank-you. She commented that you were a good distraction and a helpful friend. Thank you for doing so, for her sake."

By all the heavens, this man was annoying. My fury at Fred remained at a boiling point with the help of his stubborn valet. I wanted to demand if he knew about the whole plan or if this unsigned contract was the next step to a plot to further my humiliation. However, Lawrence halted abruptly at a door just then and addressed me.

"The garden party lies just beyond these doors. Allow me to say that I am very pleased that you have arrived, Princess Ruthia, Gwen would be, too." Without any further explanation, he pushed the door open for me with a bow and a barely audible, "Good luck."

The warm late August sun filled a lovely garden scene I barely had time to catch. There was a young orchard to the right that provided shade, and no fruit. However, the majority of the people were in the courtyard which was surrounded by rows of flowers and vines that climbed the wall. Tables were set, and a few musicians occupied a corner with their music. It was rather quiet, only murmuring chats and the tinkling of glass and laughter. As my eyes scanned the area for Fred, I quickly guess about thirty people were in attendance.

There he was, standing at the edge of the orchard staring rather blankly before him as, of course, Lady Gloria stood next to him, this time adorned in yellow. There was no suit, no cloak, and no gold, only a green vest over a simple starched shirt. In a rush, I suddenly remembered when we were at Farmer Ben-Jamen's cherry orchard and that girl had begun to flirt with him, the one who made her hideous yellow dress. Then I had been annoyed with him, too. We had danced that night, we had talked. However, I had still been far from the truth.

Not this time.

Regrouping every bit of anger and pain and frustration I could summon, I squared my shoulders and marched right up to him, the unsigned contract still clenched in my fist. He did not see me until I was nearly upon him, the contract unrolled and dangling before me.

"Fred," I stated.

He was so taken aback he actually took a step backward, bumping into his yellow partner.

"Ruthia!" He was visibly surprised, but I couldn't tell what else was in his tone. In the distant there was a rise in the murmurings, as well as audible gasps, but I could hardly notice.

"Would you step out of your nature for a moment, and be kind for once so as to tell me what the meaning of _this_ is?"

I tossed the contract onto the table and folded my arms. There. He would have to answer.

He only had to glance at it to know what it was. "I release you from the contract and conditions we had. You are free to do with it as you wish. Burn it. Drown it. Eat it. You decide."

There was an odd way his lips twitched, as though he were trying not to smile. His smoky grey blue eyes held mine as I tried desperately to decipher his meaning. It was a straight response, but did not contain the answers I wanted.

"Maid, you overstep your bounds by entering so unannounced and intrudingly."

My gaze shifted in wrathful disbelief to the scarlet, now yellow, snake who had placed herself at Fred's side. She was glaring at me keenly with all the superiority of a noble. Her chin subtly moved upward as our eyes clashed.

"Excuse me?" I nearly sputtered. Was she suggesting that I was a simple servant?

"Are you deaf as well?" she spat. "You do not belong here! Commoners are not allowed here, so you better leave before I complain and call the guards."

"I am _no_ commoner," I retorted. "You know this. I am—"

"You are filthy and dressed despicably. You have no signs of royalty about you and your peasant insolence should be punished," she countered coldly. "You stink as well. Don't pollute this noble company with your disgusting presence."

I stared at her, suddenly aware that her words were true. No doubt I stunk of horse and sweat. I had a layer of dirt on me and my clothes were more common than even a servant's. My disguise was working too well. But even with it, _she_ would know me. They all…

I was suddenly keenly aware that an intense silence had descended upon the garden party. My gaze swept around me, taking in the gaping nobles. Several ducked their heads in embarrassment when I met their eyes. Others glared in similar contempt. I knew that they either believed the snake's words or were shamefully mortified at the idea that I, Crown Princess Ruthia Eva Lynet of Luzcando had just burst into the garden party so repulsively attired.

Even King Thrushbeard and his bride were sitting silently, staring. They both avoided my gaze and Katelyn blushed. Queen Margret stood at her eldest son's side. I could see her eyes were upset as though she wanted to interject. However, something stopped her and she only stood, stony and silent.

My cheeks flamed with anger and equal humiliation. Obviously, Fred had baited the hook and I had been caught. No doubt this was just another part of the plot. He never loved me. I spun away, wanting desperately to get out of that moment, leave the stares and wide eyes and gossiping whispers.

However, Fred grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, stepping purposefully away from Lady Gloria. His eyes never left mine, and I didn't even try to calm my galloping heart.

"Princess Ruthia," he addressed me, and his tone remained neutral and quiet, though I'm sure every straining ear could hear him. "I only sent the contract because I did not wish to bind you against your wishes. It was my way of starting again, clear of any hindrances." His grin crept up. "I suppose you didn't read the letter that came with it?"

I shook my head, dumbly. "You know I can't start all over," I whispered, barely trusting my voice just then.

"I have not been a gentleman," he replied, his voice rising a bit for the audience. "Princess, I apologize for treating you so uncouthly. I should have courted you properly, without evil intentions and without chicken feed."

I nearly laughed out right because I'm sure the crowd had no idea what he was talking about.

"You will never have to beg or bribe for a bit of cloth, or act as a pottery merchant. I promise never to place you in living conditions below your standard and to always treat you with the respect you so obviously deserve. Would you do me the honor of extending your forgiveness?"

In that moment his hand slipped from my wrist and held my palm instead, gently pulling me closer. He leaned forward and in a private murmur added simply, "I'm sorry, Ruthia."

It was hardly fair. How was I supposed to get mad at him with his hand gripping mine and those stunning eyes gazing at me so intently and imploringly? I gulped. My own breathless response was quiet as well, but I'm sure they could detect my nod.

"Very well, but only if you forgive me…and if you sign that contract."

This time his grin spread wide and genuine.

"That's easier done than said," he quipped.

He proved it, too, by sweeping me up into a glorious kiss before the gaping crowd, the beaming Queen and the stuttering Lady Gloria.

"Nathaniel!" she all but screeched when we pulled apart. "You can't—"

"Stop talking, Lady Gloria," Fred said, turning rather irritably upon her, his arm still wrapped comfortably around me. "Can't you see I'm enjoying the intoxicating presence of the most beautiful damsel in land? I have only endured you for your father's sake. However, _you_ have overstepped the bounds of decency and friendships; so I say take your intolerable presence elsewhere."

"How dare you?!" she gasped.

"I dare anything," he responded. "In fact I dare say that dress looks hideous on you."

Fred kissed me again, so I don't know where she scuttled off to. I heard clapping in the distance, and for a moment I thought it was terribly indecent of me to be kissing Fred in the middle of his brother's garden party. But…it was only a moment.

This time Queen Margret approached us, but there was no reprimand. "Does this mean I get to plan another wedding?" she asked, elegantly excited (only she could pull it off). "I have always wanted to do a fall wedding. Green and gold perhaps?"

We glanced at each other and Fred read my eyes.

"No, mother," he replied. "You'll have to wait for Lily. I'm just going to sign that contract and we'll be on our way." He looked back at me. I was tugging him away, towards the door, we were nearly there. We had so much to talk about, so much to do. The garden party could not contain us.

"I promise, I'll sign it," He reassured me with a kiss.

Was it possible that he had become impressively better in the last ten seconds?

"You better."

"Nathaniel!" Adam was waving to us happily. "Go ahead! I signed it for you!"

I nearly laughed as Fred grinned appreciatively. He clutched my hand and we darted for the door.

So, then, we were officially married. If anyone would look at that battered paper, they would assume a marriage document had been drawn up by two monarchs, my father and King Thrushbeard, for two unwilling subjects.

It couldn't be farther from the truth.


	26. Epilogue

**Short and sweet. There are still opportunties for questions. :) Oh, and there will _not_ be another scene with Aspen and the others.  
**

**Epilogue**

"You know you can't be so odd anymore," I told Fred.

He flung the flat rock out across the lake we had stopped at. It skipped five times. A kind fisherman had offered his whole cottage to us, but we were content with the privacy of the wide attic, for the price of a few gold coins. The setting sun sent streaks of gold, pink, orange, and violet across the clear blue sky, which was mirrored perfectly by the quiet lake. The scene made me tempted to stay there forever, but I knew the fisherman would tire of us, and there were many other beautiful places awaiting our arrival.

"My mum says I was born that way, so I'm afraid I can't change that bit," replied Fred sending me a grin.

"I meant you can't be an odd man anymore," I clarified. Pausing for effect and uncertainty, I added, "You know what I mean don't you?"

His next throw was harder than usual and it fell clunking into the lake. Yes, he knew what I meant, and apparently it bothered him. He heaved a sigh and settled down next to me. As he took my hand, I snuggled my head against his shoulder, waiting patiently for him to voice his thoughts.

"I never expected to be king, that's Adam's burden."

I nearly bit my lip. If he considered it a burden, then it would not make for an easy acceptance. I wanted to ease his distress, but decided to let him spill everything before commenting.

"From the very beginning, Adam was better at it than I, which is fine because it was his future. I was just the backup plan. At first I tried so hard to keep up, to be just as suave with obnoxious diplomats who were only disagreeable. I tried to find the councils interesting instead of dry. I tried to befriend the aristocrat without promising anything, and remain aloof and have this…royal bearing. I failed. I'd insult the ambassadors, nod off in council meetings, and be far too personal or sarcastic with the nobles."

He sighed rather dramatically. I pursed my lips to hide my amusement.

"I guess that's why I was so relieved to be let off the hook and become an odd man. I still had some random royal duties, but I was free. I'm more myself with a couple of farmers than a couple of dandies."

"I'd be the one who wants to fix that leaky section in the castle roof. I'll probably be absent from important meetings and found playing blocks with the children. I'm just not sure if Luzcando…or you…would want a king like that."

"Fred." He turned to look at me, his eyes still troubled. "I _love_ that you are an odd man. Being a king of Luzcando will be just another one of your jobs. If you miss a meeting, we'll reschedule. If you insult, we'll apologize. If you fall asleep, I make sure there is a pillow. And if you fix that leaky roof I will kiss you senseless."

His eyes widened and the grin I loved so much "No disrespect for your excellent father, but I certainly hope that the castle of Luzcando is deteriorating into complete disrepair because…"

I silenced him with a much deserved kiss.


	27. Interview: Part 1

**Behind the scenes of The Haughty Princess: Part 1 **

Of course I was late for the interview. I won't bore you with the details of a last minute diaper change and stumbling into something suitable besides the sweats my baby boy had so lovingly pooped on. When I reached the halls of the castle in Luzcando where Ruthia and Fred were residing I took a moment to catch my breath and appear like a respectable author instead of a frenzied young mother.

"Not, a bad deal, this."

Oh, that was Thrushbeard. He was really Adam, but everyone has to call him Thrushbeard so everyone is reminded that the story is a spinoff of the tale of the same name. I didn't think I had scheduled him into the interview.

"So, then you think my being high king of the greatest country in the world and married to the most beautiful woman in the world is 'not a bad deal?' I'll be sure to post your kind review in my office as a reminder of my blessings." Fred was joking of course, because there was laughter in his voice and Thrushbeard chuckled.

"One correction, you are not married to the most beautiful woman in the world. I am."

"Katelyn is a nice looking girl, pretty even, but she literally pales in comparison to my Ruthia. Surely you must admit this. After all, wasn't it you who so poetically described her as…"

"That's not playing fair!" protested Thrusbeard. "Yes, I was blinded by the maid's good looks, but I was an idiot. We're all idiots at times. I have to admit her dowry of a whole kingdom was very handsome looking, too."

Silence for a moment then Fred said, a bit more seriously, "I did not realize that was part of your love sick equation."

I could almost hear Thrushbeard's great uniform coat shift as he shrugged. "I had it in my mind that if only I could get _her_ and our kingdoms united, then I would go down in history as one of the greatest kings. Being the eldest, they drilled in the whole "for the good of the country" business a lot deeper. My plan, I admit, was not smart. I am a politician, ambassador, and king, not a lover." He laughed again. "Nathaniel, why are you staring at me like that? Did you think every extreme action I did in the name of love was for real? Yes, I was infatuated, but more infatuated with the _idea_ than the person."

"So then, you let me set off on stupid revenge plot for a business infatuation?"

"For one thing, I didn't know about it, and for another, I never mess your plans. I've learned long ago not to try to dissuade you from any plans you've got. You're too stubborn."

"That's true, dear," Ruthia's voice entered. "I don't know why he said it, but I completely concur with your brother."

"Thanks, sweet sister-in-law."

"I thought I was rather easy going."

"Easily stubborn," smiled Ruthia. I decided to make an entrance then and the conversation turned in my direction. Thrushbeard had conveniently disappeared from the scene.

"Shall we start this thing," asked Fred with a smile. "My _stubborn_ wife is determined that I stay for the whole thing, so we might as well get it over with."

"For sure," I said, then noticed the silver platter in his hands with the fine pink towel over the top. I cocked my head, trying to remember the script. "What's that?"

"Wedding tarts of course, did not Miss Elfinestardakker request them?"

I laughed. "Right. Come, on. The baby is happy now with his grandma, but who knows how long that will last." We entered the parlor and I pushed open my laptop. I can never remember anything without seeing it in front of me.

I began by asking Ruthia if she would like for me to do a sequel to her story. Perhaps about her seven adorable rambunctious children that grew to have sandy curls and friendly freckles? She gave me a rather offended look.

"Have you _seen_ the sequels to Cinderella? The Little Mermaid? Aladdin? They are purely pathetic! And while my children are flawless and you are a decent author, I will not risk being followed by a flop. Besides, Fred's and my story is the most exquisite and delightful tale to be heard. I don't want my children to be self conscious or disappointed when their own does not quite match up."

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh, dear?" Fred wondered. He was lounging on the couch beside her, carelessly tickling her back.

She twisted round to face him. "No. I'm being very honest. I _do_ believe our story is the most incredible. I'm sure our children will have wonderful stories, but nothing could replace our own. If I remember correctly, it was _you _who stressed my honesty."

He chuckled good-naturedly. "Fair enough. I agree with you. Our story is the best, hands down." He turned his steely grey blue eyes on me and stated, "No sequel please."

"I caught sight of one of the questions, and I think it was actually for you, Miss author," declared Ruthia suddenly before I could continue.

"You peeked at my laptop?" I asked tinged with accusation.

She didn't even bat an eye. "Yes, I did. Are you offended?"

"No, not really…just…as a writer it is a pet peeve if someone is…observing my…documents."

She smiled and her husband rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess I wouldn't know," she laughed. "I'll try not to do it again. But, as I was saying. There _is _an issue addressed directly to_ you_."

"It's not on the agenda."

"I'm putting it on the agenda."

I knew better than to argue. I waved my hand, trying not to care. "Oh, very well, go ahead with it."

"Several of our readers were slightly disappointed with the last chapter, the pivotal moment when my dear husband and I were reconciled. Some felt it was too rushed and bouncy. Throughout the story you have usually been very good about that, and then, well I suppose I just didn't sound like me, especially for the moment."

"You weren't you!" I pointed out. "Think back to that moment. Your mind was a jumble of things, but it all focused on one thing, Fred. Your mind was being jumpy and sporadic in the moment because all you could think about was Fred. Does this make sense? And why am I explaining how _you_ were thinking?"

"I think that is how _you_ think when you are with your husband."

"It is not."

"Well, you have to admit, it was a bit inaccurate."

"I know. I'm slightly embarrassed. I actually wrote that part years ago and with my," I coughed slightly, "recent maturity in writing I realize my stumble."

Ruthia rolled her eyes this time. "Well, just consider that section when you edit the whole thing and send it to a publisher."

"Who said anything about a publisher? No one is going to want to read my quaint, badly plotted, little story about a bratty…" I stopped at her searing stare. "We'll see. Now, what about that dragon?"

Fred looked up from fiddling with his fingers. He had agreed to the interview, if only to sit next to his wife, but I knew his mind was keen on going horseback riding with the children. For the first time he looked slightly on edge, for the question involved him solely and directly.

"What about that dragon?"

"The story states that you defeated it and obtained the claws, which Ruthia never got around to looking at. As the author, I happen to know that you did not actually kill it. Tell us the truth behind the whole Castle Perilous." Since they were married, Fred's answer would be no secret to Ruthia, but for the audience.

"Well. My sweet wife had heard correct reports in that the Castle was dangerous and an excellent place to send unwanted suitors. However, at the time, she did not know that as prince of Durant I had naturally already looked into the place. In my younger years I had snuck past the dragon when another group of knights had come along and were distracting him with their antics. I explored the castle and found the man who owned it. He was indeed a sorcerer. He was also great friends with my father, the late king. He and I got along very well and he told me that the dragon, Gerald, was actually quite tame."

"We named our third son after him," Ruthia commented. "He really is a dear, purrs like a cat and has a soft spot for peppermint candy."

"The Sorcerer, he isn't called anything else, taught me how to spar with old Gerald. He could spit fire at me close enough to be dangerous, but never to injure. I learned to hit him with the broad side of the sword. It was more of a game. Well, Gerald really is getting old so when I went to Castle Perilous, he really did just get tired. The Sorcerer gave me some clippers; I trimmed his nails, and went on my way. The Sorcerer has to clip his nails annually as it is, so he was happy to let me do it."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Easiest part of winning her hand! I was far more scared when she tried to introduce me to her pet bee."

Ruthia chuckled affectionately. "I'm surprised you haven't banned bees from the country."

"I do like honey."

"What happened to the claws?" I asked, breaking their loving gazes.

Ruthia flicked her hand flippantly. "Oh, I gave them to Annette."

"Speaking of which, have you heard from them?"

"We visited Brinak on our honeymoon," explained Ruthia. "Farmer Ben-Jamen threw us a lovely potluck and everyone attended. Though…" here she smiled slyly at Fred, "I think there were more than a few young ladies missing. They probably couldn't stand to see Fred on his honeymoon."

Fred tried to look embarrassed but just ended up grinning at her. I almost snapped my fingers to bring them out of it, but Ruthia returned to reality and continued before I could.

"We danced until midnight. Zeke had made a little progress with Annette, I'm sure because they danced half the songs together, but she'll take years to crack. Gwen and Lawrence announced their long awaited wedding date, and Gerta and Rikki were as adorable as ever. Honestly, no one had changed. In fact, they never guessed that the King and Queen of Luzcando were celebrating with them. I do wonder if they will ever put two and two together."

"Dancing til midnight, eh?" I scrolled down my list of questions. "That reminds me. The audience has quite a mouthful for you, Fred. To begin with, Fred, can you name the moment when you knew that you could never carry out that vicious plan of yours? Do you remember how you found yourself deeply in love with Ruth?" I grinned at him. "They were quite shocked when your plan was discovered. So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Now Fred looked _really_ uncomfortable. Ruthia watched him with fascination that no doubt put him even more on edge.

"Oh, yes, I would like to hear this," she murmured.

"Then forgive me upfront for being blunt, my dear," he replied.

"Done. You know how much I uphold honesty."

"Very well." He looked directly at me. "You are my witness, she will forgive me for whatever I say about this topic at this point."

"Right. I've got it written down."

Fred seemed to sigh in exaggerated relief while Ruthia rolled her eyes. "I didn't like Ruthia. The whole time I was being a jester and a fool and rescuer and what not, I was gritting my teeth half the time. The other half I was laughing at her ridiculous ideas and antics. It was like watching a monkey get mad at a lizard because the lizard would not let the monkey catch it."

I snatched a glance at Ruthia whose lips were pursed, though I couldn't be sure if it was to keep the biting words or amused laughter from spilling out. Perhaps both.

"I knew she'd change, after all I had promised her father that I would humble her, and I had every intention of keeping my promise. However, I didn't realize what that would entail. I didn't realize the Ruthia under the pretentious cover of a snooty brat was an incredibly adorable girl."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes as he took a moment to grin at his pleased wife. "Fred, do you think you could tell the story about how you came to love the girl before beginning with your endless praise for her?"

He gave a dramatic sigh. "For your sake I shall attempt to curb my vocal admiration."

"Thanks," I respond dryly.

"Well…" he began again and I realized he had been trying to delay the actual tale. "Well…" he said again. "What were the questions again?"

I wanted to toss a tart at his head but quickly read through them again instead. "What were you feeling when you danced with Ruthia those times in Brinak? When did you first realize you couldn't carry out your plan and that you were actually in love with her?"

"Ah, well those are different occurrences." He picked up a tart. "I first knew I could not complete the stupid revenge idea when I waltzed with her on the Day of the Flowers. I finally admitted to myself that I loved her during our second dance at Farmer Ben-Jamen's gathering." He shoved the whole tart into his mouth, a sign that he was finished speaking.

Ruthia began to laugh as I glared pointedly. "You know you aren't going to get a decent romantic answer out of him," she told me.

I sighed. "I know. I hoped."

"What?" wondered Fred, trying to maintain an innocent face. "I answered the question didn't I?"

"Come now," I tried again. "What were you thinking and feeling during all those dances you had together."

Fred was fidgeting. "Well…it really wasn't as romantic as you think….I thought this interview was for Ruthia! If I'd known my own soul would be drilled, then I would have had second thoughts about coming!"

"I wouldn't have let you."

"You couldn't stop me," he replied childishly.

"I'm the author! I will make you jump up and down on your head dressed like a peacock if I want to!"

Fred had no answer. I glared my best. Ruthia was still laughing.

He sighed, and I knew he had given in. "Dancing really does bring out the best in my wife. When she's dancing the whole world could fall at her feet and become her puppets. It was when we were dancing that I realized she was not the evil spell casting brat I thought she was. She was a girl who was happy with some aspects of life and very impatient with other aspects of life. She did not ask for her life, yet she had it. It was then that I realized how utterly brainless and heartless my plan was.

"I had been so intent on this plan and on the negative side of her character that I was completely unnerved at the realization. That's why I left all flustered. I had to rethink my whole idea. I decided to simply stick with what I had told Carlos I would do. I would stop trying to be extra charming for her. I would stop trying to make her fall in love with me. That's why I became so distant. Well, that hardly improved her mood which is why she blew up at the breakfast table." He chuckled as he remembered. "At her comment about chickens I knew I couldn't avoid her endearing presence. So, I decided to be myself with her, and see what else made her so…human. Not just that, but… so enchanting and so…"

"Right, right," I said quickly, fearing that he would go through every positive adjective to describe his grinning blushing wife. "And the second dance?"

"Oh, well, the idea haunted me soon after Rafael was being an idiot. My fierce reaction in defending her was a signal to me that I was beginning to have more than friendly feelings for her. The second dance only confirmed it. Again, she was in her element, she was so calm and happy that, like any sensible man, I fell in love with her." He stopped. "Anything else?"

It was a good answer. Considering it came from Fred. "Several readers are still wondering what Rafael said."

"Let them wonder," growled Fred. "My lips are sealed."

"It's true," agreed Ruthia. "He refuses to tell me. I think he may have managed to push the actual words from his mind."

"Very well. They are also rather upset about your behavior at the ball."

"Me?" Fred's innocent face was back. "Why are all these questions for me?"

"Because you weren't narrating," Ruthia told him, with a slight hint of exasperation in her sweet voice. He didn't argue.

"What's up with you being so nice to Lady Gloria when she was obviously coming in between you and Ruthia? Why were you so…reserved and quiet? You actually didn't act very much like your bold daring self. Well?"

"Oh, well…I'm a gentleman, I'm nice to ladies. I was still very uncertain as to how Ruthia would react or what she was thinking. Oh, and royal balls undo me. They are similar to interviews." He took a moment to glower pointedly. "They put me on edge and make me feel like a puppet. I feel so constricted and confused at these things. I don't like them. I'm odd like that."

Ruthia and I agreed wholeheartedly.

* * *

**So, now you know how I get on with my characters. :) Questions are still welcome. Reviews are still welcome. Oh, and please be prepared to welcome my new story _Think Again._ The votes ended up even so I had to close my eyes and pick. Difficult thing, that. Thank you, thank you. :)**


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